I had always been the rebellious one.
Growing up, Rick had been the good child. He was the one who made mom and dad proud. I was the rule breaker, the liar, the manipulator. I strongly believed that rules were meant to be broken, and it landed my ass in trouble more times than I could count.
It's why Rick and I argued a lot…
And it's why I kept a gun hidden, even after Negan took all of our firearms.
I had my own house in Alexandria where I lived alone, and when we had originally come here, I wasn't as willing to give up my gun to be counted and locked up. I suspected my brother knew, but when Negan rounded them up, he either forgot or had no idea. I taped it on the roof of a drawer in the kitchen, and I was so glad I had hidden it.
If I needed to use it, I would.
Rick and Aaron went out to get Negan his supplies, and I stayed back with Judith. Olivia had offered to watch her, but I enjoyed spending time with my niece. Rick told me she wasn't his, but a product of Lori and Shane's brief affair when they thought my brother was dead. Regardless, she was my niece just the same, and I liked taking care of her.
I had put Judith down for a nap and was working on assembling a playpen we had found when I heard the sound of truck engines through the open windows. I looked out to see Negan's men pull their vehicles through the gate, and I narrowed my eyes at the sight. My brother was gone and Negan was back.
I stepped out of my house and was shocked to see Carl get out of the truck with Negan. I hadn't seen him all day, and now here he was standing next to our enemy. My protective instincts came over me, and I jogged over to where they were.
"Carl?" I asked, worried that my nephew had been hurt. He wasn't wearing the bandage around his head covering his missing eye. It was the first time I had seen the wound exposed, but his hair was covering most of that side of his face.
"I'm okay," Carl assured me, as Negan stepped in my way, preventing me from going to him.
"Hello there, Mr. Grimes," Negan drawled, grinning wide at me. "Your nephew had one hell of a time today. Snuck into my truck and killed some of my fucking men."
I glared at Negan, and then looked over to Carl. I had no idea he had ventured off. He reminded me of a younger version of myself, and that was as amusing as it was frustrating. Rick would be furious. I was just happy he was still alive.
"Where's Rick?" Negan demanded, and he started walking down the road, that dreaded bat slung over his shoulder.
"He's out getting you your shit," I snapped, irritation clear in my voice.
Negan turned to look at me. His eyes scanned me over, and then he grinned.
"Guess that means you're in charge, Mr. Grimes."
He wasn't wrong.
It was true my brother usually called the shots, but when he left, many people turned to me. I didn't mind it, but Rick was better at handling people. He was a much better leader than me.
Negan must have noticed which house I came out of when he arrived, because he approached mine and invited himself right in. Carl headed over to Rick's house and disappeared inside. I looked to the upstairs window where Judith was sleeping and prayed he wouldn't discover my niece. I didn't think Negan knew about her existence, and it could prove to be something he could use against us, especially my brother.
I knew right then that I would need to try and keep him downstairs if she was to remain hidden.
Negan went into my kitchen, and I headed into the living room, shoving the playpen pieces towards the other side of the couch out of his sight with my foot. He was opening cabinet drawers as if he was looking for something, and my heart sank. He was standing inches away from the hidden pistol. If he found it, I would be in big trouble.
Negan took out a glass and turned on the tap water, filling it up. He took a long drink, and then turned to look at me.
"What do you want, Negan?" I asked in a cold tone, crossing my arms.
"I brought your nephew home. I could have killed him after that little fucking stunt, but I didn't," Negan responded, setting the glass down on the counter. I watched him carefully as he crossed the threshold of the kitchen and entered the living room. He sat down on the couch, his eyes never left mine.
"He's just a kid," I said, frowning from where I was still standing across from him. What Carl had done was extremely stupid, and I was surprised Negan hadn't killed him already. Perhaps he was here to dish out a punishment, but I suspected he had other reasons. "He's home now. You can go."
"I wanted to see you," he said it so matter-of-factly that my forehead bunched in confusion at his statement.
"Oh come on," Negan leaned back and stretched out. "Don't tell me you forgot about our little encounter." His legs were parted slightly and I couldn't help but glance down for a split second, but it was just enough time for Negan to catch me.
He chuckled.
"That's what I thought."
I turned my head away and closed my eyes, exhaling loudly. He wasn't going to get to me like last time.
"Leave," I growled, still not looking at him.
Negan snickered again.
"Still pretending you don't like me?" His voice was low and sounded like gravel. "See, I don't fucking buy that for a second."
I didn't hear him get up, but in seconds he was right in front of me, closing the distance, just like the first time we had been left alone together. I didn't move, and stood my ground as he lingered over me.
"I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since my last little visit." His breath hit my skin, and his face was inches away from mine. I refused to look at him, and I felt his large hand start to grab my shoulder.
My body was starting to betray me yet again. I could feel my arousal build as Negan stood near me. I didn't understand how he did it; how he could make me hate him so much, and want him so bad. My breathing sped up as he placed his other hand against my chest and I turned to look at him.
And I could see the want in his eyes was just as bad as I knew it was in mine. Part of me wanted to shove him back onto the couch, and the other wanted to strangle him.
He opened his mouth to speak when a loud cry rang from upstairs, cutting him off. In an instant, I felt sick to my stomach.
Judith.
She must have woken up, and was crying for someone to come get her. Negan's head tilted up to look at the ceiling, and then he looked back down at me and smiled wide.
He turned to go inspect the noise, but I reached out and grabbed his arm roughly.
"Don't," I warned in a low voice.
Negan turned back to look at me grasping his arm.
"I thought you fucking knew by now… I do what I want."
He pulled his arm away and headed over to the stairs without waiting for me. I couldn't let him hurt Judith, and before I second-guessed the decision, I headed into the kitchen and ripped the taped gun from the hidden spot in the drawer. I tucked it into the back of my pants and pulled my shirt over it to hide it, and then headed up the steps after him.
He had already found her when I reached the upstairs. Judith was standing up in her crib and looking up at Negan with wide, curious eyes. He smiled down at her and went to reach down to pick her up.
I'm not sure why, but the sight of him with my niece set alarms off in my head. Perhaps it was because I knew what he was capable of. I felt this sudden need to protect her.
I pulled the gun out and aimed it at him.
His attention was focused totally on Judith, but when I cocked the gun, he turned to me. The smile that usually danced on his lips had disappeared and was replaced with a serious frown.
"Stop," I ordered. "Put her down, or I will shoot."
He must have believed me, because he set Judith back down onto the small mattress within seconds. She whined a bit at the realization she wasn't about to be picked up, but I had more pressing matters than dealing with a fussy child.
"You gonna shoot me in front of your niece, Mr. Grimes?" Negan taunted, taking a step towards me.
I continued to aim the gun at him, but he had already called my bluff.
It wasn't that I couldn't shoot him in front of Judith, but that his men were still outside. Killing Negan wouldn't fix things, and would probably only make them far worse for us. The moment I killed him, they would be on us in moments, and they would probably kill me, Carl and Judith. Rick wouldn't be able to go on without his family.
I really hadn't thought this through.
I was glaring at him as he continued to walk towards me. He reached out a hand and placed it over the gun, lowering it so it was no longer aimed at him. He pulled it from my hand, and once it was completely out of my grasp, I felt a sudden terror. The one thing I had to stop him was now gone.
He tucked the gun in the front of his pants while still watching me closely.
"I thought we got all of these," he muttered low. I continued to scowl at him. At least his attention was back on me and not on my niece.
"You're a bit of a rebel, aren't you?" he said, that sick smile returning to his face. I continued to glare at him and he stood close to me again.
I didn't have time to answer him with a witty remark. Before I knew it, he was grabbing my arm and pulling me out of the room. Judith began to cry as we exited the room, and I turned to look at the direction she was in, but Negan forced me forward.
We stopped in the hallway, and he shoved me up against the wall roughly with one hand, his fingers pressing hard into my skin. He set the bat head down onto the carpet, still gripping it, and he leaned his head next to my ear whispering low,
"Go ahead and take your gun back, Mr. Grimes."
He was testing me, in more ways than one.
He pressed his body forward, and I could feel the pistol inside the front of his pants push into me. I looked up at him, still scowling. He had that grin plastered across his face, and raised his eyebrows at me.
He really didn't think I would do it.
To his surprise, I slipped my hand down the front of his pants, not breaking eye contact. My fingers felt the plastic of the gun, and then something else almost as hard.
His grip tightened on me as my hand moved closer to his body; my fingers left the gun and felt more of him. I wrapped a hand around the bulge beneath his boxers and softly squeezed.
Negan closed his eyes and hissed out. I couldn't help but smile a bit. I could have pulled the gun out and shot him right then and there, but instead, there I was—fondling him in the hallway.
And once again, I was enjoying it.
I loved the way his face twisted in pleasure and he started to breathe hard. I watched him in fascination, and then pulled my hand back and went to grab my gun.
Negan's hand was on mine in a split second, preventing me from taking the gun. He opened his eyes, looking at me again.
"If you want this," he thrust forward, pressing the gun back into me, but I had a feeling he was referring to something else, "you've gotta earn it."
He didn't give me time to answer. Suddenly, he was gripping my shirt, and I was pulled down the steps.
We were out the front door in seconds, and his grip tightened on my arm as he dragged me towards one of their trucks. I turned to see Carl was running out of the house shouting in my direction. I already knew what was happening, and a part of me was glad it was me and not someone else.
"Go to Judith!" I called out to Carl, as Negan's men gathered near the trucks. I looked back over to see that Rick and Aaron had returned. He rushed over to where Negan was pulling me, and then shoved me towards a few of his men.
"Load him up!" he ordered, turning away from me. I felt multiple arms grab me, and I was pulled up inside a delivery truck.
"Wait!" my brother yelled, going up to Negan. His men didn't shut the doors, and I saw Rick look at me with frantic eyes. "Take me instead!" he begged.
"Your brother broke the rules!" Negan hissed. "Bet you didn't know he was packing heat, did you?" Negan pulled the gun out from the front of his pants, and pointed it at my brother's face.
"NO!" I shouted, thrashing to try and get away, but his men pushed me down onto the floor of the truck, knocking the air out of my lungs. I tilted my head up to see Negan was no longer pointing the gun at Rick, and instead was walking over to a truck.
"I'm taking your brother, Rick. In the meantime, you should talk to your son. He's had a busy day."
Rick looked at Negan in confusion, still not knowing about Carl sneaking into Negan's truck and killing his men. Rick looked over at me with sad eyes, and I did my best to look resolute. I didn't need him to worry about me.
He was the last thing I saw before the truck doors were slammed and the engine started. I looked up to see two of Negan's men were pointing guns right at me.
I closed my eyes, regretting that once again I had given in to pleasure and flirted with temptation. Now I was Negan's prisoner, and I had no idea what he had in store for me.
I had truly fucked up.
