"I'll meet you there in about...an hour or so."
Andie curled her fingers against Negan's chest as he spoke with Carol, promising to meet them for breakfast before Sophia's latest match. He had a scar just below his collarbone on the right side, and she traced it lightly, thinking about how he'd gotten it.
He'd told her that when he was a rookie, he'd been out on patrol when a young woman came stumbling out into the street, and he'd nearly run her over. It turned out that she'd just been raped, and managed to escape. Negan, being the hothead that he was, left the girl with his partner and took off down the alley to find the guy. Because he went in blind, the rapist was hiding behind a dumpster and struck his arm around, lodging a knife in his chest.
The rapist got away, and Negan was rushed to the hospital with a punctured lung. When Andie asked him what he'd do differently if he could go back, his answer was classic Negan.
"Not a goddamned thing other than to wear a vest."
Andie could hear Carol ask if she was going to join them, and Negan told her that she had a few work errands, but that she'd be there in time for the meet. It was still early, but there was laundry to do and drawers to clean out so that Negan could have some room, but she had yet to move, too comfortable laying on his chest with the fan gently blowing across the bed.
She felt slightly guilty that he was living out of a bag, and she hadn't stayed at his apartment since the night he came home with a stranger. They were going to spend the rest of the weekend there, and she had to admit that she was ambivalent, and not just because of that. As far as she knew, Negan still had Lucille's pictures up everywhere, and a part of her felt odd. Out of place, really. Even though she'd never lived there, Lucille was a part of everything.
Negan still had the couches that used to be in their little house. The same dishes. Even the same bed frame. He hadn't moved on physically from the end of his marriage, and she wasn't quite convinced that it was just 'stuff' to him. The only problem was, she was afraid to broach the subject. They were moving forward with their relationship, but she had never lost anyone like he had, so who was she to tell him that it was time to set that part of his life aside?
"You still there, Detective?"
Andie forced herself out of her head, looking up into his eyes which were watching her carefully.
"I'm here," she murmured, leaning up to kiss him. "Just thinking about Mr. Dempsey."
He gave her a soft smile, rubbing her back as he slid his hand down to cup her ass. She did feel bad about her neighbor, and she made a mental note to call and order a deli tray for his grandson who was in town to clean out his townhouse and settle his affairs. Andie had never known her own grandparents who'd died when she was just a child, long before her mother did.
"What were your grandparents like?"
"Trash, just like the rest of my family," Negan said in a bored voice, though she could see the pain in his eyes. Now that she knew what to look for, she could find it easily.
"Alcoholics and emotionally closed off."
"I'm sorry. I have no idea what mine were like."
"Well, if they were anything like your dad, they were good people," he rolled her onto her back, kissing his way down her neck to her chest. Subject closed, according to him.
After they showered, cleaning off all evidence of the long night, the two of them walked out towards the cars, and Negan stowed their bags in his trunk, steering her towards her sedan.
"Don't take too long," he warned her. "I'll send the goddamned cavalry if you stand me up."
"Fuck off," she teased him, shutting the door behind her. Andie was the first one to pull out, and she glanced back in the rearview mirror to see him shaking his head at her with a smile.
As he watched her drive away, Negan's phone buzzed, and he pulled it out of his pocket, not recognizing the number. He almost sent it to voicemail but decided at the last minute to answer, sorry that he did.
"Negan? This is Andrea."
"How can I help you?" he sighed, climbing into his car and starting it up.
"I wanted to thank you for the list," she said, the sound of fingers typing on a keyboard in the background. "We started going through it, and though we haven't made any significant findings, there were a few people who stood out, and I wanted to get your opinion. Do you have a couple minutes?"
"To relive the shittiest part of my past? Why the hell not," he muttered, pulling onto the road. "Lay it all out, Agent."
"All right, then," Andrea replied, completely unbothered. "The first person I want to ask you about is Kathy Livingston."
"Who?"
"Kathy Livingston," she repeated, but it didn't ring a bell. "You had her written down as Katey Livington. Upon further investigation, we learned she was briefly involved with you about ten years ago. Blonde, mid-forties at the time. Her husband was in jail for robbery at the time of your, uh, relationship."
"Okay..."
"So, she lived on Greensferry. Does that ring a bell?"
"Yeah. I think I remember her now. Short, with big tits? Her hubby was pretty ugly if I recall. Missing a few teeth."
"That's the guy. Kathy claims that one night after you left, she got a visit from her husband's friend Clyde. Apparently, he threatened to tell Joe Livingston that she was cheating on him while he was in the clink unless she screwed him."
Negan shifted in his seat, nearly running a red light as he thought about the tired woman with the big breasts. It hadn't been a long affair, simply because she wasn't good in bed. She was one of those women that just laid there and expected him to do all of the work, and it was one of the last affairs he'd had before he found out that Lucille was sick.
"Clyde ended up telling Joe, and once he got out, he beat Kathy nearly to death. She was able to leave him after a few months, and she hasn't seen him since. We've done a check with his parole officer, but he's been MIA."
"Fuck," he said, shaking his head. "What about the friend?"
"Died about two years back. Beat to death outside of a bar."
"Anyone else?" Negan asked in an empty voice.
"There was another woman named Siobhan Gallagher on your list."
Ahh, Siobhan. One of the hottest women that he'd ever had, not that it made a fucking difference at this point. She was about the same height as Andie, with red hair that went down to the small of her back and a body that should be illegal. He'd gone back to that well at least a dozen times, despite knowing that she was married to another cop.
"She's still with Owen," Andrea said, accompanied by the sound of more typing. "He freely admits to hating you, but he's adamant that he forgave Siobhan for her indiscretions. Still, when we interviewed him, it didn't sit well with me, so we're going to have eyes on him going forward."
Negan listened to her run down a few more people on his list, however, none of them struck anything inside of him. But, fuck, there were a ton more to go through, and the closer he got to Atlanta, the more unsettled he became. The city no longer looked inviting to him. It was more like a graveyard, the ghosts of his past roaming through it, never to be at peace.
Because of him.
David chewed on a breakfast sandwich, switching lanes to keep three cars behind Andie's. They'd just gotten onto Interstate 16, and so far, there had been no indications that she was aware she was being followed. Whenever she'd change lanes, he'd keep a discreet distance, paying strict attention to their directions.
They were just past Macon, still heading southeast, and he figured that they were heading somewhere towards the coast, possibly Savannah. He was still sitting on a festering anger that Cara was alive, and it was imperative that he find her and finish what he'd started.
Still, he would have to be patient and careful, much more so than he'd been lately, consumed by Andie and Negan. It was making him sloppy. Once he'd cleaned up his mess, there were some tough choices ahead for him. He couldn't stay in Georgia after.
For one, there wasn't going to be anything left here for him. No one around could pique his interest the way that they could. Not to mention the fact that it was getting too difficult to continue his pastimes. He had the money and the means to move on, and when he was sated here, he would have to sit down and decide where he wanted to go next.
Mexico sounded nice.
There was a silver Camry a few cars back, Andie noticed, one that had been on the road behind her since she entered Bibb County. It never sped up, never slowed down, just maintained the same speed that she had.
Her hair was standing up on the back of her neck as she eased into the exit lane, deliberately getting off one stop early, where the 16 intersected with the 95. The Camry got behind a Tahoe, following her onto the loop, and she swung to the right, pulling in abruptly to a little gas station, the Tahoe laying on its horn as it zoomed past.
Andie turned in her seat to watch the Camry roll by, the window reflecting the sun back to her, leaving her unable to see who was inside. The car never slowed down, and once it was out of sight, she stepped out into the Georgia heat, scanning the road to see if it would appear, but it didn't. Only a succession of trucks and people off to do whatever they were doing on this steamy Saturday.
The feeling of being followed didn't dissipate, but she chalked it up to her nerves, moving the car to the pump to refuel before going inside and grabbing a few snacks and drinks. She was almost there, and the fact that she hadn't eaten before getting on the road was catching up to her.
As she pulled out, she called Negan to check in, but there was no answer. Deciding not to leave a message since he was probably hanging out with Sophia, she got back on the interstate, driving to the right exit and starting the final leg of her trip, taking a long swig of her water.
"Negan, are you listening to me?"
He blinked, turning his eyes toward Sophia who was watching him curiously. It wasn't like him to not answer her. When he was with the little girl, he was always doted on her, catering to her every whim. But ever since he got to Carol's house, he'd been distracted and irritable.
Coming here is a mistake. He wasn't good company, and he should've made an excuse, told them that he had the flu or something.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he told her, leaning his elbows on the table. "What were you saying?"
"I said, the coach thinks I should try out for cross-country when I get to high school. He said I have the stamina for long distance, and I could even get a scholarship."
"That's fu-, freaking amazing," he reached out and ruffled her hair, the sight of her smiling widely making his own grin more genuine. "You can do anything you set your mind to, Sofia. I've always believed that."
Negan could feel Carol watching him closely, and he let her chatter for a while, stirring his coffee until his phone rang again. This time, it was Michonne, and he excused himself, stepping outside of Carol's house and taking a seat on the porch.
She commended him for calling her when he felt overwhelmed, and he told her about his phone call with Andrea and the feelings that it brought up in him, the urge to once again push Andie away.
"It's good that you recognize that it's a trigger for you Negan," she said as he took a cleansing breath. "But instead of trying to protect her, maybe you could lean on her. She's there to provide you with strength, the same as you are for her."
"She has enough to worry about without me adding my fucking mistakes from the past to the pile."
"Has she ever verbalized that she didn't want to know about your past?" Michonne inquired.
"No," he said slowly, shutting his eyes. "We've talked about it a little."
"And has she expressed any concerns about your feelings for her since you've made up?"
"No."
"Then I recommend that you be honest with her, Negan. Tell her about Andrea and the list. You don't need to seek forgiveness for what you may or may not have done. Actually, you just need one person's absolution."
He rubbed his fingers across his forehead as he compiled the list in his head. Kathy, Siobahn, Tracey, Deanna, Jen. It went on an on, not to mention the ones whose names he never bothered to learn, just quick drunken fucks in the bathroom of the Tavern or any other seedy bar he frequented.
"You need to make peace with yourself," she said gently as he expelled an unsteady breath. "Accept that you've done some things that you may not be comfortable with now, but forgive yourself. Whatever path you were on, you've set a new course forward, and that's okay. You're allowed to be happy, Negan. You're allowed to grow and change and to have good things happen in your life. From what you've told me, Andie's father has been very accepting of you, and if he didn't see your worth, the way that you care about his daughter, you never would've gotten his approval."
"I know, but-"
"You're able to recognize your struggles, but you need to learn to be proud of the good parts of you as well. You have a lot to offer the world, and you've already changed the lives of several people. Take that and hold onto it when you feel like the past is weighing you down."
"Thanks, doc."
"Anytime."
Ace watched the map on his phone while he smoked a cigarette, the tracker that he'd attached to the cop's car doing an admirable job. He'd left twenty minutes after she did, the app updating her position every minute or so.
Right outside of Savannah, the car had finally gotten off of the freeway, and it was currently headed to the middle of fucking nowhere. But it was still moving, so he took the opportunity to take a piss and update Scarpetti.
"Good work."
That was the highest praise he was ever going to get, and as he tossed the butt out, he got back onto the highway, getting off at the same exit the cop did. She had finally come to a stop on a little side road, and he drove towards it, finally feeling like he'd caught a fucking break.
As soon as he had a chance to case the place out, he'd call Scarpetti to send him some guys so that they could extract Cara.
Andie pulled in behind the two standard-issued sedans that alerted everyone in the goddamned free world that the police were around, thinking that she should mention it to Shane. They needed to be inconspicuous, and they were advertising their position to anyone that happened to wander down Rottman Lane.
As she got out, she was approached by Ted and Lester, the two guards that took the day shift, and she rolled her eyes as she showed her badge. They'd seen her several times, but she always had to identify herself, lest some stranger wearing her face tried to sneak in.
"How's the witness?" she asked formally as Ted gestured for her to go ahead of him, and he shrugged noncommittally.
"Inside guard has been handling it. We don't bother the hooker."
Andie whipped around to stare at him, and he gave her a cold look in reply. Ted was a prejudiced asshole, and if she found out he'd been giving Cara any trouble, she was going to make sure he was busted down to grunt work.
The little cottage had a sandy, white door, decorated around the edge with seashells, and she turned the brass knob, calling out a muted hello. There was no answer, so she went through the cozy kitchen, down the hall towards the only bedroom, stopping short with a gasp.
Scrambling out of the bed, butt naked was Daryl, as Cara laid curled up on her side with a happy smile.