Chapter 36

The redhead was staring at her again.

Eve sat on the couch in the wives' communal room, pointedly doing her best to ignore Negan sitting across the room drinking scotch. The other wives were fawning all over him. Amber was literally straddling his lap and Juneeka had her arms draped over him, nibbling on his ear. Carla sat on the floor rubbing his socked feet. Even Sher was over there talking to him, laughing and joking like they really were married.

Eve bitterly pulled at her stupid lingerie. When she and Negan had gotten back from their 'field trip' Eve had thought he'd let her keep the clothes he'd given her. Instead he'd made her choose between the clothes and her bow. She wasn't an idiot. She knew what he was doing. The man was a master of manipulation. He'd give her small freedoms, little victories and slowly she would start to appreciate them. Slowly she would start to see him as generous and kind, instead of the monster that brought her here and was holding her against her will. It was psychology 101. The sad part was, she was starting to fall for it.

In her most insane moments she started to feel as if she was understanding the man. When he'd forced her to choose between clothes and weapons, he'd explained it so rationally.

"Come on, Eve," he'd said to her when they were alone in her bedroom. "You know I can't give you any special treatment. How would that look if you suddenly started wearing clothes and running around with weapons? The other girls would have a fit and my boys would start wondering just who wore the pants in this marriage. I'll tell you what, you can choose. One or the other. We'll see how things go, and then maybe I'll rethink it later on."

And when she'd chosen her bow, he'd nodded as if he was proud of her, and he even offered to turn his back while she changed back into her nighty. For that small mercy, she was grateful. It seemed almost chivalrous. She'd had to mentally slap herself as a reminder as to who he was and why she was here to begin with.

And this is how it begins, she thought. She looked over at the other wives and scowled. If she wasn't careful, she'd be over there with them soon enough. She took a deep breath and crossed her arms over her chest.

The redhead guy, Marcus, was starting to piss her off. He stood in the doorway, standing watch. Gabe was there too, picking his fingernails and looking bored. But Marcus was standing at attention...and staring right at her. Okay, I get it, she thought. I knocked you out and stole your gun. That probably wasn't fun. But geez, lay off. She shot him a glare that she hoped would make him look away. Instead he met her gaze, and slowly, almost imperceptibly, he jerked his head toward the stairway.

She stared back at him. She must have imagined it. Was he trying to tell her something? He did it again, more urgently this time. Frowning she glanced back at Negan. He had his eyes closed now, enjoying the shoulder rub Juneeka was performing. Eve stood up and made her way across the room before slipping out into the back stairway. It was the same stairway that Sherry hid away to smoke in. The same one that Eve had started hiding in just to get away from the other wives and pretend she was somewhere else.

The stairway was dark and cool. Eve tugged at the nighty she was wearing. It was light purple and quite a bit shorter than the black one she preferred, but even she had to admit the black one was getting rank. She'd washed it that morning and it was currently drying from a hanger in her room. She'd chosen the second most modest item, which unfortunately had a low neckline and an open back.

She looked around the stairway wondering what the hell Marcus wanted her to come here for. She was just about to go back inside when he appeared.

He was a big guy and he loomed in the doorway. For the first time it occurred to Eve to be afraid. She had attacked this guy after all. Why would she think it was a good idea to meet him in a dark stairway? Her bow was safely stowed under her bed. She was completely defenseless out here.

Seeming to sense her unease, Marcus raised his hands. "I just wanna talk," he said to her.

"So talk," she said, still wary.

Closing the door behind him, Marcus descended the stairs and stood beside her. He took out a pack of cigarettes and shook one out, offering it to Eve. She shook her head but he insisted. "Take it," he said. "If anyone comes out, they'll think we're just smoking."

Shrugging Eve took the cigarette and accepted the lighter Marcus passed to her.

He took an excruciatingly long drag before speaking. "I've got a message from your guy Daryl."

Eve froze with the cigarette halfway to her mouth. "You've seen him? You've talked to him?"

Marcus nodded. "I've been assigned to watch his cell a few times. He's in pretty rough shape. They aren't going easy on him, that's for sure. Negan wants to break him, and quick."

Eve closed her eyes, fury washing over her again. She was still so mad at Daryl for coming to get her, for getting caught, and now for getting tortured. It was easier to be mad at him than to feel sorry for him. The thought of him beat up, broken...it was more than she could bear.

"So what's his message?" Eve asked.

"He said to tell you not to listen to Sherry. Not to give in."

"Sherry?" Eve frowned. "What does she have to do with any of this."

Marcus shrugged. "It's just what he said. Not to listen to her. I've seen her lurking around outside his cell before. She thinks she's being sneaky, but she's about as obvious as it gets. But anyway, I told Daryl I'd tell you, so I'm telling you."
Eve frowned, thinking about how Sherry could have found out where they were keeping Daryl. And why didn't she tell her? "Wait," Eve said, as Marcus started to move away. "Why are you helping us. What's it to you?"

For the first time Marcus met her gaze. "Look at me," he answered.

"What are you talking about?"
Marcus stepped closer to her. "Look at me," he repeated again, more urgently.

Eve looked up into his face. It took her a second, but then she wondered how she'd never noticed it before. His face, even in the dim lighting of the stairway, was a spitting image of Abraham.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"Marcus Ford, second lieutenant of the US army. I was there that night...the night Negan bashed in my uncle's head. It was all Daryl's fault. It should have been him. But that's not how Negan does things. No. I was standing there looking at the only family I had left when your boyfriend tried to save you. And Abraham...God-" Marcus broke off, his voice catching. "He always was a tough son of a bitch. You know what he said to Negan? Right after he got hit?" Marcus huffed out a laugh. "He said, 'Suck my nuts.' But that was Abraham for you. A smart ass right till the end."

Eve felt her throat tighten. It was still so hard to believe that Abraham was gone.

"And afterward, I just had to get my hands on Daryl, you know. It was his fault. Seriously, that stupid stunt he pulled. He actually punched Negen in the face. Like, what did he expect to happen? So I've been talking to him. Telling him all about how Abraham saved me back when I was a kid. How my dad died in Afghanistan and my mom couldn't stand to look at me after that because I looked so much like him, that is, unless she was blind drunk and would beat the hell out of me. Anyway, Abe came out to Colorado and showed me what's what. I enlisted the day I turned 18. I was stationed in DC when this bullshit all started. I never thought I'd see Abraham again. That is, until he showed up on his knees in that clearing."

Eve tried to imagine what it would like to find someone you loved after all this time, only to have them be killed viciously in front of you. The younger version of Abraham standing in front of her was staring at her with those same woeful eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said, because she didn't know what else to do.

Marcus shrugged. "I can't decide who I'm madder at. Negan for killing my uncle, or you and Daryl for giving him a reason to."

Marcus took a drag of his cigarette. "Anyway, Daryl's the sorriest son of a bitch I've ever met. I don't think I can make him feel worse than he already does."

Eve swallowed and closed her eyes. She knew how much Daryl blamed himself for most things. The fact that he directly caused the death of Abraham had to be eating him alive.

Marcus finished his cigarette and flicked the butt away. "Well, you're welcome."

Eve watched him go back up the stairs and disappear. It felt strange, but a part of her felt like she'd just found an ally.

...

Two days later Eve cornered Sherry. It had been hard to get her alone. Something had happened and Sherry was acting different. On her best behavior. Sometimes in the midst of pleasing Negan in some way she would lock eyes with Eve and give her a strange look, as if to say, this is how it's done. But she'd been elusive. Staying close to the other wives, or Negan.

In fact, all the wives were steering clear of Eve. Juneeka seemed genuinely afraid of her, which considering that Eve had threatened to kill her with a sharpened ruler before choking her into unconsciousness, Eve couldn't exactly blame the woman. Amber pretty much ignored Eve completely, which was nothing new, but now she was actively sending Eve dirty looks. Carla, who had always been cheerful and amicable (if not a little insane) toward Eve, now promptly left the room if the two of them were alone together and never spoke to her directly.

Eve had gone back to wearing her black nighty, but in an act of defiance she wore her boots as well. The other wives either wore flimsy high heels, sandals or were just barefoot but Eve couldn't bear feeling so vulnerable. At least she had proper shoes. At least she had that. But the other women seemed to resent that. They seemed to resent all of her.

At first it didn't bother Eve. She wasn't particularly fond of any of the women. She had no wish to befriend them, and instead she was trying to focus on a plan to get herself out. But, as time wore on, a desperate loneliness was starting to take hold. One can only be isolated for so long before losing her damn mind. She found herself longing for conversation. For friendship. For all intents and purposes, now her only companion was Negan. And her feelings for him were being warped in the process.

Negan had just taken both Carla and Amber into one of the bedrooms and the sounds that were coming out were enough to make Eve squirm. She couldn't be feeling jealous, could she? Squashing that idea from her mind, she looked around the room. Meeting Juneeka's eyes, the woman visibly jumped before scurrying away to her bedroom. For the first time in weeks Eve found herself alone with Sherry. She took advantage of the rare opportunity and pounced.

"You've been talking to Daryl, haven't you?" she demanded, in a hushed voice. "Where is he? Where is he being held?"

Sherry looked around wildly like an animal in a trap. Finally she turned to Eve and shook her head. "It won't do any good, Eve," she said sadly. "You'll only make it worse."

"Tell me where he is," Eve nearly growled.

"Don't you get it?" Sherry snapped. "There's nothing to do but submit. The sooner you and Daryl both realize it, the better. I've tried to tell him that, but he won't listen. If he doesn't give in soon, they're going to kill him. Whatever Negan has done to him up until now, it can only get worse. You've seen what he's like. You know what he'll do."

Eve glared at the woman, but she felt sick to her stomach realizing she was right. So this is what Marcus's message from Daryl meant. Not to listen to Sherry. Not to give in.

"There are worse things than death," Eve said, but even to her own ears she sounded naive. How would she know what was worse than death? She was still alive.

Sherry looked at her sadly but before she could say anything else Negan's voice carried through the room calling for her. "Sher, come on in here and join in the fun."

Sherry closed her eyes for a moment, mentally steeling herself. Eve watched with hard eyes as the woman gathered herself up, and obediently went to the door. Before going in, she looked back at Eve and gave her that same look. This is how it's done, she seemed to say. This is how you survive.

...

Another few days passed in dreary repetition. Every day was the same. Eve would eat, sleep, stare out the window at the dark building while being actively ignored by the other women and then do it all over again the next day. On top of that, Negan had started ignoring Eve as well. At first it was a relief. He'd told her he would respect her decision not to be his wife in more than just name alone, and it seemed he was honoring that. He was cordial to her. He would ask her how she was doing, how her day went, if she needed anything. But he didn't come to her room anymore. He didn't offer any information about her friends, about Alexandria, about the sanctuary...nothing. She should have been happy about this. But the truth was, his absence was leaving her anxious.

As for his other appetites...he was keeping himself more than occupied with his other wives...so much so that Eve was starting to feel an unfamiliar itch. He wasn't exactly quiet about it...

That all changed one night when she came back from the bathroom to find Negan waiting in her bed. It surprised her, to say the least. She'd last seen him going into Amber's room with a bottle of whipped cream. But now here he was. Waiting for her.

His arms were propped behind his head as he leaned back against the headboard. He was shirtless and his belt buckle was undone, dangling by his hips. Eve studied him, and despite herself, she felt her face go hot. She swallowed.

That catlike grin flashed across Negan's face and Eve's pulse quickened. He smiled triumphantly. Standing up, he made his way across the room and stood in front of her.

Eve couldn't bring herself to back away.

The truth was, life in the harem was a lonely one. She felt so isolated, so cut off from the world, from her friends in Alexandria, from the mothers, from the other wives...from everyone. It was like living in solitary confinement.

She looked up at Negan's smirking face and tried to muster up the strength to back away, to feel that same revolt that she'd felt initially, but it wouldn't come. All she felt was loneliness and yearning. Living in the harem, listening to all that happened there...well Eve wasn't made of stone. Her mind had gone places in the past week. Places she would have rather left uninvestigated. And now here was the source of those...fantasies… there was no other word for them.

Negan's hand snaked out and wrapped around her waist and she found herself face to face with his bare chest. Involuntarily she raised her hands to rest on his skin. He was warm, and rough, exactly how a man should feel.

She closed her eyes as Negan's lips touched her neck.

What would it be like to just give in? she thought. What use was it to resist? Maybe Sherry was right. Maybe this was the only way to survive. The only person she was hurting by resisting was herself. Maybe if she gave in, he would visit her more. He would give her more freedom. The other wives would accept her. Maybe if she kept Negan happy, he would keep her friends safe, maybe he wouldn't kill anyone else. Maybe it would work. Maybe this could all work out. All she had to do was give in...

Her hands moved around to Negan's shoulders and she drew herself closer to him. She breathed in his musky scent. Felt his ropes of muscles. Images and voices swam in her mind: Glenn's face appearing, then Abraham's… Daryl suffering in a cell somewhere… but she pushed them all away as Negan's lips found hers.

Her breathing was ragged as he slipped her nighty up and over her head. It was almost painful, how much she wanted-needed- release. His hands roamed her body, her skin immediately responding to his touch.

Something snapped inside her and a wild and ugly part of her took over. She found herself pushing him roughly onto the bed, tearing down his jeans and mounting him roughly. His eyes went wide with surprise as she rode him, sweat prickling his forehead as this unexpected event unfurled.

He lasted longer than she did, but not by much, which is saying something. She'd heard him going for hours with the other girls. When she finally rolled off of him, she lay panting and looking up at the ceiling.

His deep chuckle echoed throughout the room. He rolled over onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow. "You were worth the wait," he said, rubbing his lips against her bare shoulder.

Eve didn't look at him. She kept looking at the ceiling. Her heart was racing, but her mind was clearing. What did she just do? Bitter regret was rising in the back of her throat. She did it. She gave in.

Now she wanted to die.

As her heart slowed and her breathing returned to normal, those images that she'd pushed aside before came flooding into her mind. Glenn's smashed skull, Abraham's last words, Daryl's message not to give in. She felt guilt and shame crushing her. She clenched her eyes shut, willing Negan to just leave.

He reached out and slid a rough, calloused hand over her cheek. The way he did it, it was almost mockingly gentle. She kept her eyes closed and jerked her head away slightly.

"Aw, don't be like that, Evie. You know that was damn good." When Eve didn't respond, she heard him sliding out of bed and buckling his pants. She kept her eyes closed until he was gone, then she broke down crying.

…

It took Eve a moment to realize who it was standing there holding a tray of food. He wore a brown sweatsuit with an orange A painted on. It was a filthy thing, and for a moment that's all Eve could think about. The smell that came from him was strong and unpleasant, like sweat and piss. Eve was sitting on a chair with her arms crossed when Dwight brought him in and when the two men entered, Eve didn't even look up.

She was trying to become invisible.

The entire morning Negan had been regaling the other girls with a detailed description of how he and Eve had 'finally consummate their marriage' the night before. He didn't hold anything back, and to hear Negan reiterating her every move made her want to throw up. Eve could feel Sherry's eyes boring into her, somehow both approving and disappointed at the same time. God, she just wanted to disappear.

It wasn't until Negan said his name that Eve finally realized what was happening.

"Daryl!" he said. "Go ahead and put that tray down right here," he gestured to the table in front of him and Eve.

Eve met Daryl's eyes and her mouth went dry. He looked terrible. Underneath the filth, Eve saw that his face was swollen. Two black eyes, a cut lip. His skin was pale and sweaty, his hair greasy. Dwight stood in the doorway and he propelled Daryl forward so he stumbled a bit. Daryl set the tray down and stood back awkwardly.

"Well, thank you so, damn, much," Negan said mockingly. "See, Daryl, my wife Eve and I are celebrating. Last night was one hell of a night, wasn't it, honey? Mmm mmm mmm. Your girl here has the tightest pussy I've ever had, and that's saying something, eh Dwight?"

Dwight shifted uncomfortably from behind Daryl and Eve saw Sherry flinch.

Eve felt her face go hot with shame. She knew exactly what the monster was doing. She'd never felt so stupid, so used. So, weak.

Daryl's eyes shot to hers and she couldn't help it, she looked away.

Negan stood up and sauntered over to where Daryl stood. He bent down so he spoke directly into Daryl's ear. He whispered something that Eve couldn't hear, but Daryl's look of disgust said enough.

"Get him outta hear," Negan barked to Dwight, who obeyed immediately by pushing Daryl roughly toward the door. Daryl looked back once and Eve met his gaze with tear filled eyes.

…

Hours later Negan finally left the harem announcing loudly that he was going to pay a visit to Alexandria. He smirked at Eve and caressed her face. "Don't worry, darlin'" he said. "I'll be thinking of you while I'm gone." The implication wasn't lost on her. This was her reward. He'd spare her people if only she continued to open her legs to him. She swallowed and bit her lip to keep from screaming.

She spent the afternoon in the bathroom, trying her best to wash the smell of Negan from her skin. But it was no use. Every time she closed her eyes she saw his face, felt his body against hers. She went to the communal area some time later only to find Sherry sitting alone, drinking a glass of Negan's prized scotch. Eve sat down next to her carefully. The woman didn't look up, but offered Eve the glass. Eve sipped it once, then tossed it back, hoping for some kind of release from the misery she was feeling.

She handed the glass back to Sherry who refilled it. The two women sat together in silence passing the glass back in forth.

"The first time I.. said yes," Sherry began. "I cried the whole time. Negan, he...he laughed. He kept telling me I'd forget all about Dwight in no time at all. God, I was so stupid."

Eve couldn't bring herself to respond. She didn't know what to say.

"The thing is," Sherry said. "Dwight and I decided this together. We wanted to live and this was the only way."

Eve wanted to argue. She wanted to say there was another way, that they could fight this, they could get out together. But hadn't she been thinking the same thing just last night? "I think you're right," she said instead.

Sherry looked at her sharply. "I was wrong!" she snapped. "You were right. There are worse things than dying. This. This is worse."

Sherry's eyes were glassy and more than a little drunk. She huffed out a sob and buried her face in her hands.

Just then the harem door burst open. Both women stood quickly and came face to face with Daryl.