The hours ticked by in the dark cold cell….yet sleep was not something that managed to come easily to Blake.
She tossed and turned, her head resting on nothing but bare concrete.
Every part of her ached, partly due to old bruises that littered her body in hidden places, but mainly due to the sheer cold. The gap beneath the door was drafty, and all night a chilly wind seemed to whistle beneath it, preventing her from falling into a deep sleep.
The hours seemed to crawl slowly by. And before Blake realised it, it was morning.
She could hear footsteps passing by in regular intervals and the sound of muttering floating under the door.
Yet the cell still remained as dark as ever…
Blake heaved herself up, propping her back up against the wall.
Her mouth and throat were parched. It had been twenty-four hours since she had had anything to drink and it was all she could think about.
It wasn't long before the morning drifted by too. And by the time ,that she calculated as lunchtime, came, Blake could take it no longer.
The caramel-blonde woman gave a pained groan and bashed her fist against the steel door.
"Hey!" she cried as loud as she could, with her croaky voice.
A second passed of silence before Blake banged her fist against the cold metal once again. "Hey!" she yelled.
Half a minute slipped by, but before she could knock once more, the door was suddenly wrenched open.
The blonde man she had seen with Negan last night was there once again, staring down at her. She now noticed that one side of his face, that had been, last night, obscured by his lengthy hair, was badly burned.
"What?" he uttered sharply.
Blake gave a difficult gulp.
"I…uhhhh….can I get some water….?" she said in a quiet tone, staring up at him. "…uhhh…..please…."
The man surveyed her carefully for a long second….. before abruptly slamming the door in Blake's face once again.
She gaped for a short moment…before bashing the door with her fist again.
"Please!" she cried out, before giving a small roar of frustration and leaning her head back against the wall behind her.
If she didn't get some water soon, she felt like she'd surely die of thirst.
Blake closed her eyes, slowing her breathing….
She wondered what David was doing right now?
Was he ok? Was he locked away in a cell too? Held prisoner until Blake dished the dirt on Rick and his group. Dirt that she did not even possess!
She was cold, thirsty, and right at this second, felt so so alone.
How had she got herself into this mess and how the hell was she going to get herself out of it again?
Could she makes something up? Try and sate Negan and the Saviours' appetite just long enough for her to hatch a plan?
Ughhh. It was useless.
That Negan guy would be sure to see through the lies in seconds. She knew men like him. He wasn't a fool.
And then what….a swift blow to the head with that baseball bat of his and it would all be over.
She still didn't know what to make of him. Negan. Sure he was intimidating, but he hadn't scared her as much as she'd expected. Perhaps that was all part of some sort of plan of his.
Blake gave a heavy sigh as the minutes seemed to drift by….alone and desperate for a drink of any kind.
Was this really what her fate was to be? After escaping death for so long, was this going to be the thing that killed her off?
She was painfully thirsty now and in desperate need of something….anything to quench that thirst.
Her eyes travelled nervously to the bucket that was serving as a bathroom in the corner of her darkened cell. Luckily or unluckily for her, however she looked at it, she hadn't need to use that yet…so that was thankfully not an option.
But before she could ponder her predicament any longer, suddenly and without any warning, the door to her cell was wrenched open, sending a cool shaft of artificial light streaming across her face.
Blake winced, blinking a couple of times before staring up to see the blonde man standing there once again, beside the open door.
But this time, he wasn't looking back at her. No.
Instead he had his head bowed…his eyes on the floor…
….and it took Blake a second or two, to realise why…
She gave a sudden gulp…her mouth salivating…
For standing at the end of the long corridor was Negan, leaning up against the wall, in that same old leather jacket and legs that seemed waaay too long for him. He still had that annoying grin plastered across his stubbly face.
In one hand was his trusted baseball bat…but it was what was in his other hand, that had caught her eye…
"Lemonade?" Negan uttered in that low drawl of his, lifting the glass pitcher full of ice cold liquid in his hand.
Blake heard the ice inside the jug tinkle.
Never in her life had she wanted something more. But she didn't move.
"Oh come on now," continued Negan, flashing her a cocky smile. "I know how badly you want it…"
His eyes met with hers.
"…the lemonade that is…"
He gave a chuckle at his own joke, as the blonde man at the door gave a thin laugh in reciprocation.
It was obvious that Negan's men were scared of him. So Blake knew for a fact that him offering her lemonade right now, was not an act of friendship.
It would never be that easy.
Negan gave a sigh, pushing himself from the wall and peering down at the pitcher in his hand.
"Just thought you could do with a nice cold glass of this, after spending the night stuck in that utter fucking shit-hole," he said nodding towards the dark cell. "And, you have no idea how many skulls I had to crack to get a hold of this."
He tinkled the pitcher again, strolling towards her.
Blake gave a gulp.
"Well you know what they say," Negan muttered, arching his back as he spoke. "When life gives you insolent motherfuckers, you make lemonade."
Blake looked up at him, breathing hard.
His words were so callous, so uncaring. She didn't doubt for second that he wouldn't kill people to get his hands on something as simple as lemonade, either.
"I don't think that's how the saying goes," she said in a simpering voice, narrowing her eyes at him.
But Negan just scoffed, shrugging his leather-clad shoulders, staring down at her. "Tomatoes, tomatoes…Doll."
Blake rolled her eyes.
God, how he infuriated her.
"So you gonna get up yourself, or is Dwighty-boy here gonna have to shut you in that cell again?" said Negan after a second or two.
The blonde man at their side glanced at Blake for a slight second, before looking away once more, keeping his eyes on the floor.
Blake gave an inward sigh.
What choice did she have right now? She was desperate for something to drink and right now she couldn't face another moment alone in this cell.
She frowned, picking herself up, wincing as he did so. Her body felt stiff and sorer than it had after she just woken up. She was almost 30, and so far too old to be sleeping on floors anymore…
She stood, brushing down the back of her dark jeans and pushed her long caramel hair back over her shoulders.
Blake noticed Negan eye her, a bemused sort of expression crossing his long features, as she exited the cell, stepping into the harsh light of the corridor.
She half expected to get pounced on by Negan's men at any second, but the threat never came. To her surprise, she found that it really was just her, Negan, and the man named Dwight, out here.
Blake folded her arms across herself, her eyes travelling up to the leader of the Saviours, as she approached him tentatively.
"Well goddamn, Doll-face," said Negan, his chocolate eyes traveling across Blake's features. "You really are a beauty, ain't ya? The night-time didn't do you justice."
But Blake just frowned up at him, ignoring his comment.
"Where's David?" she asked, her voice steady, and as calm as it could be under the circumstances.
But at her question, Negan sucked his teeth, glancing away for the slightest of seconds.
"Oh he's settlin' in nicely," he uttered in a matter-of-fact tone, looking back at her. "Just like you could be….if you tell us what you know about Rick the Prick, and his gang-o-rebels."
Blake pursed her lips, taking a step closer to Negan.
She had nothing to tell him. Nothing at all.
"I want to see him…David…" she said defiantly, raising her head and staring directly into Negan's eyes.
But the dark-haired man merely smiled, although obviously impressed by her stance, he lifted the baseball bat in his hand and swung it towards her middle gently, where it missed her by inches.
"All in good time, sweetheart," he said winking at her. "But first, how 'bout we enjoy this lemonade out on my porch. What do you say?"
Blake gave an inward huff of frustration, knowing she probably had very little choice in the matter.
She blinked in compliance, lifting her head, her green eyes settling on Negan's dark ones.
And for a long moment they stared each other out, Negan running his tongue over his lips and giving her a grin, before he lifted his bat in the direction of the doorway at the end of the corridor.
"Ladies first…" he said with a husky growl.
And Blake almost immediately found herself doing what she was told, and heading off down the hallway, feeling Negan fall into step with her instantly.
She knew where she was going. She guessed correctly that the balcony Negan had been referring to, was indeed the raised platform she had been brought out onto the night before.
And so heading around the corner, the man at her side gave the large steel door a shove with his bat, as Dwight followed behind them silently.
It was a bright and sunny day and the heat seemed to hit Blake more than it probably would have done, had she not felt so dehydrated.
She stopped for a second, gazing around.
Two large rocking chairs, and a small dark wood-stained table had been brought out here to the little balcony overlooking the fences surrounding the Saviours' camp.
In the daylight the place looked ever more horrific than it had at night, with several men in baggy grey clothes keeping the advancing dead at bay as well as they could. It was almost the opposite to the tranquil life that Blake had now become accustomed to behind the high walls of Alexandria.
She suddenly felt Negan's shoulder meet with hers gently, bumping her as he passed.
"Take a seat," he muttered close to her ear, in a low voice that seemed to send shivers all down her spine. She jerked her head around to look at him, feeling defensive all of a sudden.
What was all this? She had almost expected Negan to take her to his 'porch' and torture her until she gave him what he wanted….whether that be information on Rick…or something else completely…
But Negan strolled casually over to the rickety-looking table where two glass tumblers sat, and filled them both with the enticing lemon drink.
Blake breathed hard, the sun beating down onto her caramel blonde hair…
She cautiously walked over to him and took a seat in the chair nearest to the door. Not that she had much chance of escaping, not with Dwight guarding the door with a gun in his hand, at least.
Negan took a seat next to her, placing his baseball bat down between them casually, resting it against the small table, before reaching over and handing her a glass.
Oh god, she wanted it so badly, but she paused for a second, staring down at the cold tumbler in Negan's hand.
Why was he so eager for her to drink it, huh? The Saviours had denied her anything to drink for so long….so why now?
"You've put something in it…" she said giving a gulp, her eyes flickering from the glass and back up to Negan.
But Negan merely chuckled, placing the glass down beside her and picking up his own, before leaning back in his seat and taking a long, drawn-out gulp of lemonade.
It was a moment or two before he placed the glass down again on the table beside him and pointed to her with his finger.
"That's the problem with you people," he said raising an eyebrow towards Blake. "You are all far too suspicious. Here I am, giving you an audience with me, as well as a lovely glass of cold lemonade….and there you go accusing me of trying to drug you."
He shook his head, turning away from her and staring out across the lot.
"I mean, goddamn doll-face," he said with a sigh. "Have I given you any reason to believe that I'm out to hurt you?"
But Blake gave a scowl, almost gaping at his words. "You've had me locked in a cell AND you killed people from my camp…" she said in an incredulous voice. "You fucking bludgeoned them to death….with that thing-"
Blake pointed at the barbed wire-covered baseball bat.
"…so excuse me, for not trusting you," she snarled, huffing and turning away from him, folding her arms across her chest once again.
She could feel Negan's eyes on her, but his face, she couldn't read.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly, knowing that he could very well use that bat on her right now.
But she if she was going out, she was going to go out, having quenched her thirst at the very least.
She turned back towards the table and picked up the glass Negan had just drunk from, bringing it to her lips and taking a well-needed sip.
The lemonade was sharp and cold, and tasted like the best thing Blake had ever, ever tried in her entire life. She could barely stop herself from closing her eyes as she gulped down mouthful after mouthful.
She finished the last drop and gasped for air, hearing Negan give a quiet laugh.
He was still staring at her, through his dark lashes. But Blake didn't care anymore. She just licked her lips and placed the glass down again.
Now he was free to do with her what he liked.
"You know, I think I can see why your fiancé brought you here…" said Negan after a second, shifting slightly closer to her and biting his lip. "I mean if I had a gal like you, there would be no way I'd be leaving you behind."
Blake blinked her eyes.
"What?" she asked, her mouth suddenly going dry again, despite her thirst already being quenched.
Her eyes darted across Negan's face, trying to read him.
What was he talking about?
But Negan just looked back at her lazily.
"I mean there is always an open spot for you as one of my wives -" he started teasingly, with a widening grin, but Blake cut across him hurriedly.
"You said that David brought me here," she said breathing hard.
Negan stared at her, looking a little bemused.
"Yuh-huh," he said with a nod, smiling. "Ol' Davey-boy was pretty fuckin' insistent that you coming here was all part of the deal. You were already passed-out when Simon found him on the side of the road. He was waiting for them with you, like he'd said he would be."
Blake got suddenly to her feet.
She could feel her heart hammering in her chest.
She hadn't been knocked out and brought here by the Saviours at all…. she'd been brought here by David….wait, was he the one that had knocked her out?
"Take me to see him," Blake said in a sudden demanding tone, staring daggers at Negan.
But the leader of the Saviours just stared up at her coolly, giving a smirk.
"Now what has got you all riled up, peaches?" he said tilting his head to the side and surveying her carefully.
But Blake was in no mood to play games.
She didn't care about where she was…or who she was talking to…
"Now!" she cried, snatching up Negan's baseball bat suddenly and holding it out towards him threateningly, shifting her weight from foot-to-foot as she did so.
Almost instantly, she heard the click of Dwight's safety being removed, and the feeling of the barrel of a gun being pressed into the back of her skull.
Negan looked amused, sitting back in his rocking-chair, and looking her up and down, his eyes twinkling with something Blake couldn't quite put her finger on.
"Well, hot-diggity-dog," he said giving a chuckle and placing his bearded chin in his hand and gazing at her. "You are giving me, just the biggest hard-on right now, you know that-"
"Shut up!" cried Blake talking over him. "I want to see David….take me to see him."
Negan's smile lingered for a moment, before his face suddenly because serious.
"Dwight," he said in a measured voice, his eyes never leaving hers. "Take her downstairs to see her precious Fi-an-ce."
From the corner of her eyes she saw Dwight give a confused frown.
"Boss?" he asked questioningly.
But Negan gave a wave of his hand and turned away from them both disinterestedly.
"Give the lady what she wants, Dwight," he said, picking up the second glass of lemonade and bringing it to his lips.
There was a beat, before Blake felt the barrel of the gun being pulled from her head, and the blonde man grab her shoulder, turning her back towards the door.
Suddenly there was a cough from behind them both, causing Dwight to stop Blake in her tracks.
"Ahem," came Negan's growling voice. "Lucille?"
Blake gave a frown, and glanced back at the dark-haired man over her shoulder, who now had his free arm stretched out towards her.
Blake wavered for a moment before looking down at the bat in her hand.
Wait, had he really named this thing Lucille?!
She gave a scowl, her darkened eyes staring directly into his, as she handed the weapon back to him, dropping into his hand with a thud.
Blake knew, that all he had to do was stand up and use 'Lucille', and that could be the end of her….
But he didn't, he merely smirked, and turned away from her once again, taking another sip of lemonade, before giving a satisfied hiss.
At this Blake heard Dwight mutter an irritable "hurry up" into her ear, as he tugged her,once again, in the direction of the door.
"Say hi to David for me…." Negan muttered quickly, in a low voice from behind them, "…oh and Frankie…if she's still down there."
Blake's eyes widened and she snatched one last look at Negan as she was pulled abruptly through the doors.
What the hell had he meant by that?
But she didn't get another chance to ask him as the steel doors swung promptly shut behind her, blocking all sight of the dark-haired man…..and Lucille….from her questions.
Thanks so, so much to blackcat711, JudithMosalii, Shadowlover1222 and bimbohanna for reviewing the last chapter.
Are you liking this so far? Would you like me to continue? I hope you all had a lovely weekend.
Please review! :)
