Chapter 9

Sleep evades me once again, my mind is still processing Negan's news. I toss and turn as much as the chain would allow in an effort to quiet my mind, but to no avail.

I get to leave this hell hole.… Sure, I'll have to come back eventually under Negan's original 'terms' as the insurance policy, but I need to get out of here. I need to figure out a plan to help my dad scrape together the funds for Negan's payments. It would take him years to pay Negan using my dad's sporadic income as a mechanic. We could always sell the truck… or my guitar… anything to bring in extra cash.

All I have to do is stay on my best behavior until tomorrow and pray that dad doesn't try to do anything stupid during the exchange. His current state-of-mind could be all over the place; I mean, he helplessly watched a sadistic monster kidnap his daughter and threaten her safety on numerous occasions.

Jesus, please don't let my father push Negan's patience tomorrow… It wouldn't end well for either of us.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Crash!

"Shit!"

I bolt upright out of bed. Startled awake by the sudden noise, I instinctively reach under the pillow for my pocket knife. That is until I spot Negan by the dresser, the contents of the first aid kit scattered around his feet.

"Not what I had planned for your wake-up call, but at least your ass is up," Negan says, a satisfied grin on his face. "Since this shit is already out, might as well take a look at those pretty little wrists of yours."

He grabs a few of the adhesive bandages off the floor, placing them on the side-table near the armed chair and proceeds towards me.

Knowing the routine, I kick off my blankets and stand to my feet, giving Negan better access to unhook the chain. Clip – the familiar sound of the chain releasing, allowing me a slight level of freedom in this captive situation.

Negan makes quick work of my dressings, considering that he has had plenty of practice. A few of the lacerations required more attention than others due to being deeper in the skin. All I could do was grit my teeth through the stinging pain as he gently applied antiseptic to the wounds.

Finally finished, Negan allows me to quickly dress and freshen up in the bathroom while he puts away the first aid kit. I don't linger an added second, cautious of his time constraint.

He's nowhere to be seen as I exit the bathroom. A rustling of glasses from the kitchen confirms his whereabouts, must be getting himself a drink….

By the time he returns, shot of whisky in hand, I'm sitting on my bed already dressed and bag packed. He shakes his head and doesn't say a word as he grabs fresh clothes and continues into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

It's only 8:30 AM. Negan mentioned while cleaning my wrists that we're supposed to meet my father at noon. The anticipation of today's meet has me unable to sit still. I mindlessly fiddle with the adhesive on my wrist, anything to keep me occupied as I impatiently wait for Negan to finish getting ready.

A loud gurgle emits from my stomach, reminding me that it has been near empty for the past few days. Negan should be out soon, maybe he'll spare a few scraps of food for me.

Twenty minutes pass and still no Negan. My stomach twists and turns in hunger, the feeling damn near painful. What is taking him so long? Maybe I could slip into the kitchen and find something before he comes out…? No, I can't take the chance. If he were to find me, it's no telling what he would do to me. He may even cancel today's meet, my only chance of going home.

My body hunches over as my stomach spasms again in hunger. That's it, I can't wait any longer.

Standing up, I go over to the bathroom door and hesitantly knock. No response, but I can hear something on the other side of the door. Moaning? Taking a deep breath, I knock once more, but louder.

Negan's frustrated muttering is heard on the other side of the door before it opens enough for him to poke his head through. There's a thin layer of sweat on his forehead and his eyes are oddly glazed over.

"Kinda busy right now, darlin'…?" he pants, clearly out of breath.

Seeing my confused look, he impatiently points down toward his hidden body. "A man has needs that he has to take care of from time to time. Alone..."

My cheeks grow red in embarrassment at his words, realizing that he was jerking himself off just moments before. That explains why it took so long to get his attention….

"Umm… I'm hungry. I, uh, still haven't eaten since I've been here. Can I go find something to eat before we go?" I stutter, refusing to look at him.

"Simon's ass should still be in the kitchen after our few drinks. Get him to make you a fucking sandwich or something, I don't care.… Unless you'd rather have a different kind of protein," lowering his voice as he bites his lower lip, his gaze traveling down my body.

"I-I'll just g-go find Simon," I quickly ramble, turning in haste to get away.

"You'll come around, they always do." He sings as he closes the door.

That sick bastard. I wouldn't want his foul-mouthed ass anywhere near me, even if I wasn't in my current situation.

Take a deep breath… Don't let it get to you.

Simon is exactly where Negan said he would be – leaning against the counter and casually sipping from a glass of clear liquid. He straightens up upon seeing me.

"Morning, princess. Sleep well after last night? It sure was a doozy, wasn't it?"

"That's one way to put it," I mumble. A shiver courses through me as flashbacks of last night flood my mind: the unbearable heat of the furnace, the horror of almost being ironed, and the putrid smell of charred tissue…. That's one night that I will never forget.

I shake my head from side-to-side trying to regain my train of thought. "Negan is still in the shower. He said I could have something to eat before we hit the road and to find you."

"Hmph. Well, let's see what ol' chef Simon can whip together for you." Simon flings open a few cabinets.

In a few minutes, I am greedily devouring the bologna and cheese sandwich that Simon prepared for me. My stomach could've easily handled another one, but I didn't want to push my luck by asking for more.

A fresh Negan strolls into the kitchen clad in his usual garb with Lucille hanging from his belt loop.

He flashes a wolfish grin and a wink in my direction, hinting at the 'offer' that he made me. Pleased by my discomfort, he turns his attention to Simon.

"Everything in order?" Negan questions.

"We're good to go. Arat has been briefed on today's quotas. She'll make sure those sorry-shits stay on task."

Negan nods in approval. "Alright, let's get this fucking show on the road! We pull out in five."

Finally, we're about to leave! I can't hide my elation as I rush to retrieve my bag from the bedroom. I sling it over my shoulder and run out.

I scurry back into the kitchen when Negan grabs my shoulder, stopping me in place.

"Geez, slow your fucking roll, you're moving like a bat out of hell! If I wasn't mistaken, I'd say that you can't wait to leave this shithole that I call home. Damn, that hurts kid, just when I thought that things were going so well." He places a hand on his chest in mock anguish.

"N-no, It's not that," I scramble to think. "I-I just missed my d-dad, that's all."

Negan's features are unreadable as he analyzes my response, before he reaches up and ruffles my hair. "Good answer, pup!"

Relieved by his response, I turn to go, only for his massive hand to seize me again, more vigorous this time.

"Did I dismiss you?" His dark eyes narrow at me. "Didn't think so. Turn around, you know the fucking drill," he growls. Hanging from his other hand is the black fabric of the blindfold.

I am not surprised. As if Negan would actually allow me to make the journey without any kind of restraints.

Once the blindfold is synched tight, I turn myself around, not needing Negan's guidance. It worries me how acclimated I'm getting to being without my sense of sight.

My arms are behind my back before Negan prompts me to do so, prepared for the zip-ties.

"I hate to disappoint ya pup," he says upon seeing my posture, "but no zip-ties, your wrists are fucked up enough. Any more of that and they'll be cutting through your damn bone."

What? Maybe Negan trusts me more than I thought if he's allowing me to travel with only my eyes covered.

Click – the sudden feeling of added weight on my neck tells me otherwise. The chain…

"Only for the ride, can't be too cautious. Since I'm not cuffing you, your arms are to remain at your side, if they leave then you'll get the biggest punishment of your life. Now, move." Negan roughly shoves me forward, nearly knocking me off kilter.

Once again, I'm blindly lead through the Sanctuary until I feel the crunch of gravel under my feet, reaching the truck.

"Come on, princess, in you go!" I hear Simon command. Of course, Negan would bring his right-hand-man along… Does he go anywhere alone?

Simon guides me into the middle seat, careful not the tangle the chain in the process. The truck shifts as he slips into the passenger seat and Negan climbs into the driver's seat, both slamming their doors with a flourish. Before we can take off, the truck shifts once more as someone climbs into the seat behind me, the back-passenger door creaking shut.

"Nice of you to finally fucking join us, 'D'," Negan mocks.

Dwight doesn't response, merely buckles up as Negan steps on the gas.

Red flags arise with the fact that Negan is bringing not one, but two of his lieutenants along for the meet with my father. He didn't even bring both men when he first confronted my father and I, so why bring two men this time?

Unlike the first road trip, no one says a word, the only sound coming from the rhythmic rumble of the truck's engine. I almost wish that someone would strike up a conversation, anything to break the monotonous silence.

Always on cue, I hear Negan clear his throat.

"Listen up, here's the rundown and rules for today. Your pops will meet us at the location and his ass better be there on time. He'll hand over my money, which Simon will ensure that every fucking penny is there. Your ass stays in the truck until I signal Dwight to bring you out.'

Now it's plain to see why both men came along, someone has to always babysit me…

'Let me make one thing clear, you do not look at your dad, talk to your dad, or even acknowledge that he fucking exists. You stay by my side like the good, little pup that you are. And don't let me hear a damn peep out of you, you understand?" He chillingly threatens.

"I understand. There won't be any problems," I reply obediently. He doesn't have to worry about a thing. I'm not going to do anything that would jeopardize any chances of going home.

I could feel the rusty truck pull off of the main highway and onto a gravel road. The worn suspension allowing us to feel every bump and jolt of the unmaintained road.

Negan suddenly slams on the brake, the forward momentum causing me to fly forward from my seat. My hands slam against the dashboard just in time.

"Look alive you sorry shits, we're here!" Negan bellows. "Well fuck, would you look at that….'

'Damn, my bad sweetheart, forgot that you're seeing about as much as Stevie Wonder right now. Let me paint the picture for you. Daddy must be anxious to get you home because he's already here! Now, Simon and I are going to go have that chat with your father that I was telling you about. Be a good little pup for Dwight, I'll whistle for you in a minute."

The driver and passenger doors open simultaneously as both men exit the vehicle, Simon handing the chain off to Dwight before shutting the door. The crunching of the gravel under their boots along with the sound of their casual conversation fades as they walk away from the truck.

I remain in my seat, knowing not to make any sudden movements without prompting from Dwight. He hasn't uttered a word to me since his showing of genuine concern last night.

"Dwight?"

"Keep your mouth shut." His voice is stern.

"I-I just thank you for last night… I know that you didn't want to be there, that you didn't want Negan to go through with the original plan – "

My airway is partially cut off as Dwight yanks on the chain behind me, pulling me slightly out of the seat by my neck.

"Shut the fuck up! You know nothing about me. Last night was a fluke, I let my god damn guard down, something that won't happen again," he growls, increasing the pressure on the chain.

The collar tightens. My hands grasp the collar in vain attempts to loosen the strain. The burning of my lungs from the lack of air consumes me. My airway is nearly cut off completely, when Dwight releases the chain, causing me to slump down in my seat as my lungs re-inflate with valuable oxygen.

After a few moments, my breathing steadies and quiets down, allowing me to hear faint voices in the distance. Negan's booming bass carries, I'm easily able to hear his berating comments to my father, but not much else other than that.

A high-pitched whistle rings throughout the area.

Hearing the signal, Dwight unhooks the chain from the collar before climbing out of the truck. I hear the passenger door open followed by Dwight grabbing a handful of my shirt, pulling me from the vehicle. He's not gentle with me as he shoves me face first against the body of the truck to remove my blindfold.

"Come on." Dwight firmly grabs my left forearm and pulls me forward. I nearly trip over my own feet as I blindly follow him, my eyes still adjusting to the piercing sunlight.

My vision finally returns, allowing me to get a first look at the surroundings. We are in an abandoned parking lot of a rundown factory, fencing lining the perimeter. The vegetation is thickly overgrown around the fences and walls of the factory, the coarse growth appearing to crawl up the steel walls. Massive smoke stacks adorn the rusted structure.

I can see why Negan chose this location for the meet. We are in total seclusion, the property situated in the middle of a field with it's only access point being the gravel road that we just traversed. No one could possibly interrupt us.

Dwight herds me towards the three figures looming in the distance, steering me straight to Negan's side. Simon stands next to him holding a stuffed envelope with the assumed payment.

My father stands near his 1996 F150. His eye is badly bruised and near swollen shut from Negan's attack a few days ago. A few band-aids riddle his face, covering the opened wounds caused by the melee of kicks and punches.

His worried eyes immediately raise to meet mine when Dwight hands me off to Negan. I quickly look away, remembering Negan's demands on the way here.

My heart wrenches in my chest when I hear a choked sob from my father. With only a t-shirt and jeans on, he fully views the results of me being in Negan's care for the past forty-eight hours.

My previously unblemished face is now littered with scrapes from the gravel and a swollen lip. Dark blue and purple bruises sprinkle my arms and neck from being roughly manhandled, and my frame leans at an awkward angle from the damage to my ribs. In addition to the collar around my neck, it must've looked like a terrible picture.

"S-S-Sam?" My father beckons me, tears streaming down his face. I dig my nails into the palms of my hands, aiming for the pain to distract me from my father's tearful pleas. He calls my name again when I refuse to make eye contact.

"You," Negan spits towards my father, "do not talk to her. She's still my property."

"You son-of-a-bitch! What have you done to her?!" My father screams, rushing in an emotional frenzy towards Negan.

Negan roughly grabs me by the collar, forcing me down on my knees, and raises Lucille over my head. "Pump the brakes or Lucille gets introduced to her fucking skull!" Negan roars.

The barbs linger dangerously close, lightly snagging a few strands of my hair. I stay stiff as a board to avoid accidentally deepening the contact.

My father stops mid-stride and throws his hands up in surrender, pleading for Negan to lower the weapon. Frantically, he backs away and returns to his original position.

Negan glares at my father, his brows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line. It is a tense standoff with no one knowing what to do next. Simon and Dwight look to Negan for direction, but he only continues staring down my father. Lucille still too close for comfort above my head.

With an evil chuckle, Negan loosens his hold on the collar and slowly lowers Lucille back to his side.

A relieved breath escapes my lips, a breath that I didn't realize I was holding during the standoff. I watch as he struts the gap separating my father and I.

"You of all people should know that shit doesn't fly with me!' he addresses my father, angrily pointing Lucille in his direction.

'But I'm an understanding man. I'll overlook that little outburst of yours, it's an emotional moment, I get it.' Negan's eyes briefly soften, glancing back and forth between mine and my father's distraught faces. He then moves to stand directly in front of my still kneeling frame.

'You see those marks and bruises on your little girl's body? That shit wasn't my fault. She disrespected me and was rightfully punished. Hell, I did you a service by the way I treated her! Remember how disrespectful the little shit was a few days go? Not anymore! We had a lengthy lesson on respect.… It's amazing how a little tough love and the looming threat of death can whip someone into shape. Ain't that right, pup?" Negan cocks his head to the side, patiently waiting for a response.

"Yes, sir." The words are barely above a whisper from trying to thwart the frustration building within me from him acting as if he did my father and I a favor by taking me as his prisoner.

"What was that? I didn't fucking hear you." Negan kneels and cups his hand around his ear.

My inner patience snaps. I slowly raise my head and glare straight into his eyes, not even trying to disguise the level of disdain that I'm feeling. Taking a deep breath, I make sure to clearly enunciate the two-syllable phrase, maybe with a tad too much defiance added to my tone.

"Easy there, pup, don't make me break you in front of daddy. You just cashed your fucking 'one time only' outburst card. Try that shit again and see what happens…" Negan challenges through gritted teeth.

I immediately curse myself for allowing my temper to get the best of me. This isn't helping the situation any.

Negan remains fixated on me, causing me to squirm under his gaze. His posture and demeanor further reiterating the fact that he never gives empty threats, he meant every word that he said. Negan's head snaps to the side upon hearing my father timidly clear his throat.

"U-um, did I m-meet your demands? C-can I take h-her home?

Negan stands and stalks towards my father, stopping a few feet away from him. "You did a good job, Pete. I must say that I'm fucking proud of ya! This has gotten me thinking about our little arrangement….' He begins pacing in front of my father, appearing to be deep in thought.

'You see, if I let her go home with you, what's going to stop you from tucking tail and disappearing for another twenty-five god damn years? I just can't have that. Plus, it's amazing how a little 'holy shit, my daughter's fucking life is in jeopardy' lit a fire under your ass! The proof is in the pudding – without your daughter, I received no money, but with your daughter, I get fucking paid."

"W-what are you s-saying? W-we made a-a deal!" My father stutters, undeniably upset.

"Yeah, and now I'm changing the deal! I'm proposing new terms, as if you actually have a choice in the matter.' Negan chuckles. "You can have your little angel back once you pay back half of what you fucking owe me. Of course, she'll have to return to me periodically to make sure that you continue delivering on your end. I imagine that it won't take you long considering how long it took you to scrape together the measly amount for today."

"Wait, no –" I begin, but I'm quickly cut off by one rage filled glance from Negan. I tuck my head down in submission, not wanting to anger him anymore.

"As I was saying, you'll deliver a set minimum amount of cash, to be determined, to a drop-off site every week. Hell, if you want, you can get ahead on payments and put some extra money into the drop-off to help you reach your fucking goal quicker. All you have to do is make sure that the minimum amount is always paid each week."

"How am I supposed to trust that you will keep her safe? Look at her –," my father's voice grows shaky, "and that's only after a few god damn days with you!"

Negan turns in my direction. "Most of that was her own damn fault… just saying. But if it makes you feel fucking better, I'll make sure to put one of my lieutenants on guard duty when I'm not around. To ensure nobody will mess with her, trust me. I can't promise about the punishments though, that shit is entirely up to her attitude and actions. She can be a god damn handful at times…." Negan shakes his head, smirking at me.

My father steps back to lean against his truck, overwhelmed as he tries to process Negan's new demands. He runs his hands through his short hair, weighing his limited options. With my eyes still downcast, I feel the weight of my father's gaze settle on me.

"I'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe, I promise." He responds to Negan.

"Well, I'm glad to fucking hear it, Pete!" Negan slaps my father on the back, causing a pained whimper. Then he proceeds to put an arm around his shoulder. "Just to show you how happy I am, I'll even throw you a damn bone. How about for every week that you make a payment, I'll allow you one hour with your daughter, under my conditions of course. You can use the hours individually for visits or you can save them and have one big, extended visit. I'll leave that shit up to you."

"T-thank you," my father genuinely replies, taken aback my Negan's sudden generosity.

"See, I can be reasonable at times!" Negan jokes, releasing my father's shoulder.

Head still down, I spot Negan's combat boots near me. Without warning, he hoists me up by my arm, his grip tight enough to cause another ugly bruise. Negan's eyes light up when he hears my father's reaction from seeing me manhandled like that.

"Oops...I'm sorry 'bout that pup. That one is on me," he winks playfully. "It was nice doing business with ya Pete! I look forward to finally getting my fucking money. We better get moving, it's been a long damn day and it looks like my pup may be getting tired. See you next week!" With that, Negan turns and begins hauling me across the parking lot towards the truck, Simon and Dwight a few steps behind.

I turn my head back at the last second and lock eyes with my father. What I see shakes me to the core. The fire in his eyes is gone, his fight is gone. I peer into the dark depths of an empty, broken shell of a man who is at the end of his rope, utterly hopeless.

"I love you, dad!" I yell as Negan leads me away, hoping to see a flicker of hope, a flicker of anything on his face, but there is nothing.

I've barely gotten the sentence out before Simon shoves my head forward.

When we reach the truck, I have no time to react as Negan grabs a fistful of my shirt and aggressively throws me against the cab. The impact knocks the wind out of me. A harsh slap to the side of my face whips my head around, only for Negan to re-center my head just to deliver another painful blow.

"What the fuck did I tell you, huh? I thought you were smart, that you got the message. But no, you decide to defy me at the last god damn minute and not only look at your father, but also speak to him?' His words are barely registering with me, my mind foggy from the hits.

'You're a real piece of work pup! A real dumb piece-of-shit that thinks it's fucking okay to defy me in front of your father, well think again! This new arrangement isn't going to start well for you, darlin…"

My cheek is still throbbing from the first few slaps as Negan's fist swings forward for the third shot. Bam - The world goes dark.

Edited by Spitfire47.

I'm sorry about the late update, guys! I had a family emergency this past week and had limited time to write. Things have improved and I hope to be able to update the next chapter on time. Thanks for being patient!

What are you thoughts on the update? What could be in store for Sam now that she is stuck with Negan for a little while longer? I'd love to hear from you guys!