Negan is absolutely livid. I don't know whether to focus on him or the barbed weapon being held in a death grip as he attempts to compose his anger.
My knees are curled into my chest as I attempt to make myself as small as possible. I wish I could disappear from view, anything to get out of this situation.
Negan continues to linger at the broken doorway, his burning stare not leaving me. I tuck my head between my knees, too terrified to make eye contact with him.
My inner panic increases as the shuffling of footsteps alerts me of his movement, the unmistaken thud of each heavy step seemed to echo through the room. The sound ceases and I can sense his towering presence over me. His shadow emphasized his anger as if played over my cowering form.
An eerie silence falls, the only audible sounds being my low whimpers and Negan's unsteady breathing. The tension in the room mounts as I wait for him to speak.
"Look at me," he growls through clenched teeth.
I slowly ease my head up. My eyes lingering below his nose as a way of avoiding eye contact.
A yelp leaves me as his thick fingers intertwine in my hair, forcing me to comply to his demand. My hands grab his wrist trying to ease the pain stinging my scalp. I've never seen a human-being engulfed in anger of this magnitude.
I don't try to fight out of his hold out of fear of pissing him off even more.
"You wanna explain to me what the fuck you were thinking, smashing my shit like that?"
I'm at a loss for words. Contemplating between telling him that his own man is lying to his face or to just accept my punishment and pray that it's over with quickly…. What if he doesn't believe me and that only fuels his rage even more? I go for it anyway.
"I didn't do it, I swear to God! He's lying to you!"
His grip tightens, causing my scalp to burn in excruciating pain.
"You gotta be shitting me! One of my own god damn men destroyed five bottles of my best shit? Then tries to pin it on you?"
"H-he was p-pissed at you, said y-you docked his p-pay," I manage to say in-between sobs. "K-knew you w-would blame m-me…"
Negan increases the pressure until it feels that every hair follicle is about to be torn from my scalp. His face is emotionless as he watches me sob and thrash against him in agony.
"If you're fucking lying to me, that pretty little face of yours will never look the same again," he lowly whispers the threat.
There is instant relief as my hair is released from his vice. I'm quick to crawl away from him, curling myself into a ball between his bed frame and nightstand as if they could offer any protection for me.
Negan doesn't utter another word as he storms out of the room, not even bothering to attempt to shut the half-broken door.
"Boss?" I hear the henchman ask in the other room.
"Not fucking now! Keep her restrained, and stay away from her," Negan yells as I hear his stomps descending the stairs to the main floor.
I'm left alone, trying to process what just transpired. The fact that he didn't smash my skull in on the spot perplexes me. I almost wish that he would've gotten it over with instead of forcing me to wait even longer for my impending doom.
I need to get out of here before he comes back. My left hand grasps the collar in search for the point-of-attachment for the chain. Dammit, my fingers wrap around what feels to be a lock on the back of the collar. I knew that I should've paid more attention when Negan was hooking me up last night…
I move on to the end of the chain hooked to the bed post. The chain is tightly wrapped three or four times around the wooden post, also secured by a heavy-duty lock.
I grab the metal and pull with all the strength I could muster with my left arm, bracing my feet against the nightstand for added leverage.
Come on! Just…. Break…. Free!
The chain falls with a loud clink onto the floor as my grip falters, sending me sprawling onto my back. Luckily, there was enough slack to prevent my neck from being snatched mid-fall.
It's no use, the bed frame didn't even move a centimeter from my weak attempts.
Where could that damn key be?
I get myself into a kneeling position where I'm now eye-level with his nightstand. The only thing inside the sparse drawers are a box of condoms and a few cigars. I slam the drawer shut in frustration and plop back down onto my mattress. The limited chain length prevents me from searching anywhere else. There is no other choice but to wait for Negan to return.
XXXXXXXXXX
My panic-induced frenzy tired me out. I later woke to the feeling of multiple hands grabbing me.
My eyes fling open as Simon and Dwight roughly grab me by my arm and shirt, hoisting me to a standing position. Dwight holds me steady as Simon reaches under Negan's pillow and retrieves a key.
Of course he would hide it there…. He did say that I would only be tethered at night, meaning that the key would be safely guarded under his sleeping head. Attempting to grab the key would've definitely been a suicide mission.
Simon makes quick work of the lock, removing both the chain and the collar from my sore neck.
"You won't be needing this for now. It'll just get in the way, princess," Simon says as he tosses the collar to the ground. His tone is dark and mysterious, his words not revealing much, but it's enough for me to know that I'm not going to like what happens next.
Simon glances at Dwight as if he was expecting him to make the next move.
"Go on, Dwighty-boy. You know how this process works," Simon raises an eyebrow and gestures towards me.
Dwight hesitates before reluctantly pulling the familiar zip-ties out of his back pocket. Simon is about to grab me to turn me around when I interrupt him.
"I won't fight you, there's no point to resist you two... I'll comply with your every instruction. But please go easy on my right shoulder, that's all I ask," I sincerely asked the two men. I realized that my chances of successfully fighting off the trained men were slim-to-none. Besides, that would only cause more harm to my useless shoulder.
With that, I turn around and assume the position to the best of my ability, unable to move my right arm fully behind my back.
It's amazing how things have come full circle. Just twenty-four hours ago, Negan was placing zip-ties on me and reassuring my safety if I cooperated. Well, look what cooperation gave me – another pair of zip-ties that will lead to my ending.
I try to prepare myself for the familiar bite of the zip-ties on my freshly-wounded wrist, knowing how bad it's going to hurt.
The cool plastic wraps around my wrists and begins to tighten. The tightening stops as Dwight releases my wrists and turns me back around to face them. The zip-ties are practically loose on my wrists, tight enough to prevent me from slipping free but loose enough to not cause discomfort.
I know what to expect next… I'm correct as Simon hands Dwight a blindfold, the same blindfold from yesterday.
The realization of what is happening finally sets in. My tough exterior cracks as I begin to openly cry in front of these two strangers.
Simon quickly looks away at the sight of my tears, pretending to fiddle with his watch.
Dwight, on the other hand, doesn't turn away, but instead keeps his gaze on me. The eyes that were previously pointed, angry, and full of hate now show something else… His eyes are softer, revealing not just pity, but remorse and sorrow.
Not all of Negan's men are as cold-hearted as they appear.
Dwight finally breaks his gaze and raises the blindfold. I promptly follow his lead and turn back around. My world fades to black as the cotton fabric envelops my vision. I feel Dwight step closer to me, his body ever-so lightly pressing against mine as he securely knots the fabric.
"I'm sorry…" He sincerely whispers in my ear before pulling away.
More tears fall at hearing his words as he gently grasps my forearm and turns me back around. Dwight's hand lingers on my arm, softly holding on to me. His contact not meant as a way to prevent an escape, but as a way of further communicating his regret and empathy. Him and I stand there together, our mutual silence speaking volumes in the current situation.
"Okay, chop-chop!" Simon's voice causes me to jump, forgetting that he was present. "It should be ready by now. Let's go, kid."
On cue, I feel Simon grab my right arm, his touch has a bit of pressure to it.
I think back to what Simon just mentioned about 'something being ready.' What could he be eluding to?
"Where are we going? What should be ready?" My meek voice laced with obvious fear.
There's a long pause as neither man makes a move to answer my question.
"The furnace," Dwight mutters in clear discomfort, an audible tinge of pain in his voice. I feel his hand against me begin to shake.
What the hell does Negan have planned for me? Whatever it is, it doesn't sound promising judging by Dwight's demeanor.
"If you're fucking lying to me, that pretty little face of yours will never look the same again." Negan's words echo in my mind.
Fuck! It all makes sense now – his threat, the furnace, even Dwight's hesitation and level of empathy. Dwight isn't just distraught because he knows what is about to transpire; he's distraught because he was once in my shoes, Negan has done the exact same thing to him. Negan is going to burn the side of my face off, just like he did Dwight….
The two men lead me through the apartment and down the stairs to the main floor. My sense of location is gone after that as we make several turns, passing through doorway after doorway until reaching another set of stairs. The steps feel steeper than the ones before, resulting in Simon taking the lead as he guides me down while Dwight steadies me from behind with a protective hold on my left arm.
"Watch your step, princess," I hear Simon warn.
"That's kinda hard to do with a blindfold on, Simon," Dwight retorts.
"Good fucking point," he chuckles
The farther we descend the stairs, the warmer the temperature seems to get. By the time we reach the bottom, I am near sweating from the extreme level of heat. This only adds to my worry because that means that we are near the furnace… and Negan…
My legs involuntarily lock-up in fear, resulting in a slight shove by Dwight, edging me forward once more.
In the distant, I hear the increasing roar of a large fire.
My heart is damn near beating out of my chest. My lungs struggle to fill with air as struggle to fight off a panic attack, my crying no longer silent as I softly whimper in fright.
"Shhh… It's going to be okay," Dwight gently whispers, loud enough for me to hear but soft enough to be undetected by Simon.
His words were meant to comfort me, but they only added to my worry. I could hear the tinge of doubt in his voice as if he was trying to convince himself otherwise.
Simon suddenly stops me, the thunderous roar and the blistering heat from the fire alerting me that we had reached our destination.
My vision returns as the blindfold is ripped away. We are standing in the middle of a large room. Discarded boxes and trash line the walls. There are many small windows near the ceiling. This, along with knowing that we descended another level of stairs tells me that we must be in the basement.
It's nighttime. The room's only source of light is from the large, industrial furnace before us. I can see large flames dancing within the structure through the metal-barred door.
A low whistle echoes through the room.
My head snaps towards the direction of the familiar tune as Negan appears out of the shadows with Lucille comfortably slung over his shoulder.
His demeanor appears much calmer than earlier. In fact, the man practically has a grin on his face.
I hear another set of footsteps and turn to see another figure coming into view. The glowing embers from the fire slowly reveals it to be the accusing Savior, a sick grin spreads on the asshole's face.
My rage gets the best of me as I attempt to lunge forward towards the lying bastard, only for Simon and Dwight to roughly yank me back in place between the two.
"There's that spunk I was talking about earlier!' Negan chuckles, the evil sound reverberating off the cinderblock walls.
'Strap her down, boys. I don't fucking need the little shit squirming around while I try to do my job."
My feet leave the ground as Dwight wraps his arms around my waist and lifts me up. Simon fades into the shadows, only to reappear dragging an armed chair into view. Dwight easily carries my light frame, plopping me down in the seat of the chair. Simon places a calloused hand between my shoulder blades, leaning me forward to allow Dwight access to the zip-ties, which he snaps from my wrists with his knife.
Each man grabs a wrist and proceeds to bind them to the arms of the chair with more zip-ties. I try to fight out of their grasp, but that soon stops as Simon harshly pulls on my injured arm, forcing me to submit or receive another excruciating pull.
They check the bindings one more time before stepping back. Unlike when Dwight first applied the zip-ties, these are as tight as possible, even the slightest movement causes the plastic to tear through my healing gashes.
Negan steps forward, lazily swinging Lucille from side-to-side until he is directly in front of me.
"Comfortable?" He raises an eyebrow, cocking his head to the side.
"Please don't do this Negan! I didn't do it, I swear to God, I didn't do it…." my voice trails off as I hysterically plead for my life. "He smashed your bottles and knowing that you were going to do this, he put the blame on me!"
"Shit, darlin', you're tugging on all my heart strings. You deserve a fucking Oscar for that performance! I see that you're sticking to the same damn story as earlier…. Oh well, you've made your fucking decision. You understand why this is happening, don't you?" He asks, kneeling to meet my gaze.
There's no point in trying to convince him now. "A r-rule was bro-broken..."
"Bingo! And why are rules important?" Negan points Lucille at Simon.
"Rules keep us alive." He robotically answers.
"That's fucking right! The rules keep us alive. Without rules, this damn business would go to shit real quick. And what happens when someone breaks a fucking rule?" This time pointing Lucille towards Dwight.
"…you get punished." Dwight answers, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground.
"Fuck yeah, you do! It's that simple - follow the rules and things will be peachy. But break a rule," Negan pauses, pointing towards the raging fire. "Then it's the iron for you."
I begin to pull at my restraints once again. My attempts cause blood to ooze from my wrists as my thrashing inflicts more damage.
Negan doesn't try to stop my worthless attempts at escaping. In fact, he begins to laugh in my face.
"You've got balls, I'll give you that much! But you have no one to blame but yourself. You see, if your dumb ass hadn't lied to me, this wouldn't be happening,' He says as he motions towards the furnace.
'Sure, I would've dragged your ass outside last night – Lucille was really praying for that shit – but you had to go and fuck things up even more and lie to me," he says, shaking his head in disappointment.
Standing to his feet, Negan hands Lucille to Simon and walks towards the furnace.
"D', get your ass over here," he barks.
Dwight sulks towards the flames. He reaches into a box near the furnace, pulling out thick leather gloves that go up to the elbow, a long metal rod with a hook on the end, and a solid iron. He quickly adorns the gloves, situates the iron on the hook, and places the hunk of metal into the burning furnace.
"You wanna know why liars get the fucking iron instead of Lucille? Because then, they have to walk around with half their face melted off for the rest of their pathetic lives. It's like a walking billboard to the rest of my men saying 'If you lie, you lose half your face.' My people need to know that I won't put up with that shit from anyone.'
Negan reaches into the same box that Dwight used earlier, pulling out another leather glove. Dwight pulls the metal rod out of the flames, the iron glowing a bright orange from the intense heat. Negan shoots Dwight a smirk as he grabs the iron off the hook using the thick leather glove.
'I'm sorry that it had to come to this, darlin'. I really don't enjoy doing this shit, I already fucking told you that.' Negan sternly says as he slowly walks towards me with the sizzling iron. 'But I must maintain my authority amongst my men, they need to respect me. Lying will never be tolerated here at the Sanctuary. I told you that there would be hell to pay for any infractions to the rules and I'm a man of my god damn word."
At this point, I'm thrashing around so much in the chair that Simon is forced to hold the chair in place to prevent me from tipping it over.
Negan is only a few feet from me now, the reddened surface of the iron inching dangerously close.
My body leans as far as possible away from Negan, stretching my restraints to the limit. A sharp twist of my head from Simon redirects me into the path of the iron. My head is immobilized, Simon forcing me in place with one hand palming the back of my head and the other hand locked tight around my jaw, keeping my head tilted to give Negan perfect access to my left cheek.
Tears flood down my face, my shirt visibly damp from the continued stream. I want to scream as Negan slowly brings the iron towards me, but Simon's grip on my jaw prevents me from doing so. I can feel the heat radiating off its glowing surface as I prepare for the feeling of melting flesh.
"Don't worry, I won't mess you up too bad… maybe," Negan pauses, the iron centimeters from my flesh. "Ain't that right?" - turning the question to the Savior who was previously looking on in glee; his devilish smirk now gone.
Time comes to a stand-still as Negan's question lingers in the air, no one daring to move or speak up.
"W-wait, what?" The accusing Savior stammers, his eyes widening in sudden panic.
"Isn't that how you said it? Or do you not think that I will fucking 'buy that'? I know the kid is 'worthless' and all, but hey, she is 'taking the bullet' for your ass." Negan's voice raises as he continues to speak.
My breath hitches as Negan's remarks spark flashbacks of the condescending comments that the accusing bastard had hurled at me during his rage-filled, bottle breaking frenzy. The Savior spoke those same words to me when we were alone in the apartment, there is no way that Negan or anyone else could have overheard them in any way…. What else does Negan know about what transpired?
Negan's statements also takes the Savior aback. Even in the dimly lit room, I could visibly see the color drain from his face.
Negan backs away from me, the iron now a safe distance from me, focusing all his attention on the fidgeting Savior.
"That is what you told her, correct?"
"N-no, I d-didn't –"
"If I were you, I'd be damn careful what I say next," Negan waves the iron in his direction, emphasizing his point.
The Savior can't stand still as he nervously shifts his weight from one foot to another. His desperate eyes dance around the room looking for any possible escape route. Ascending the stairwell to the main floor is his only option, but that would mean having to go through Negan and his lieutenants, an impossible feat to accomplish.
I suddenly feel Simon release my head from the angled position. He quickly glances towards Dwight, both men exchanging a confused look. Obviously, they were not filled in on Negan's alternative plans for the night either.
At this point, Negan takes a threatening step towards the Savior, who responds by backing a few steps away from the man and the scorched iron in his hand. The cat and mouse game continues as Negan inches closer and closer.
Giving a slight shrug, Simon follows Negan's lead, approaching the Savior from the opposite side. Dwight takes the opportunity to box the Savior in from the rear, preventing him from backing any further away from Negan. The Savior is completely surrounded as the men form a predatory ring around him.
"Oh! So now you have nothing to fucking say to me? You can talk all that shit to a damn girl but you don't have the balls to confront me like a fucking man? And then you lie to me on top of that? Shit – you must really think that I'm not a man of my fucking word…" Negan toys with the trembling man before him.
"B-but, how...-"
"How did I know that you're a lying piece-of-shit?' he interjects. "Big brother is always fucking watching. You can never be too careful when you oversee as much shit as I do, I have to have a way to keep an eye on my assets and my shady-as-fuck employees like you.'
'There are over fifty cameras shoved into every god damn nook and cranny of this shithole. One of them captured one hell of a show this morning! You see, after hearing from you and my pup, something just wasn't adding up. I know that I'm not her favorite damn person right now after our little lessons in 'respect', but she isn't that fucking stupid to smash all my shit. She knows god damn well that I would beat the fuckity-fuck out of her. Am I right, pup?'
"Yes sir," I quickly reply to get the attention off me.
"You see that? She hasn't even been here two whole damn days and she gets it – this isn't personal, it's business! You have nothing to fucking worry about if you keep your nose clean and do your damn job. Not bitch and complain whenever your ass gets reprimanded for some stupid shit that was your own fault.'
'You're mad that I cut your pay? Maybe if you'd gotten off your lazy ass and actually did your job, you would get some recognition. You upset that I didn't throw you a fucking party after bringing me intel on the whereabouts of our own personal 'where's-fucking-Waldo?'" Negan spits. "Tough shits! I hate to break it to ya, but it just doesn't fucking work that way….'
Negan nods towards Simon and Dwight, cueing the men. Dwight comes up from behind the Savior and wraps his arms around his neck, pulling him towards the wall near the furnace. The Savior struggles against Dwight but is unmatched due to Dwight being a few inches taller and many pounds heavier. He is manhandled by Dwight until he is roughly pushed face-first against the surface of the brick.
Dwight releases the chokehold and uses his body weight to keep the man pressed against the wall, allowing him the ability to only move his head. His brief, limited movement is denied as Simon resumes his duty and holds the Savior's head still. Tilting it to the optimal angle as he did with me, giving Negan the perfect target for the flat surface of the iron.
"You can't do this! This isn't right!" The Savior attempts to struggle against the lieutenants as Negan stands a mere few feet away from him. The glowing iron closing its distance.
"Yeah… This isn't right. It isn't right that one of my own fucking men chose to lie to my face and act like a ball-less coward, placing the blame on a god damn girl. You're a gutless, piece-of-shit and this will be a daily fucking reminder of that…."
A shrill scream pierces the space as the iron is firmly pressed into the flesh of the Savior. The sound of the sizzling flesh resembled that of bacon cooking in a frying pan. Dwight and Simon are using all of their power to keep the brutalized man from overpowering them in his agony-filled struggle. The room grows quiet moments later as the Savior passes out from the extreme pain, his body only being held up by Dwight and Simon at this point.
Satisfied by the outcome, Negan pulls the iron away from the man's face, carrying with it melted strings of layered flesh.
I immediately turn my head at the sight of the grotesque wound, swallowing down the vomit attempting to leave my stomach. The iron burned through several layers of skin, the area now flaming red in color.
Dwight and Simon gently ease the unconscious man to the floor, laying him down at Negan's feet.
"When the motherfucker wakes up, take his ass to Dr. Carson's office in the next town. I don't care that it's damn near midnight and that the bastard is probably home for the night. I don't pay him so god damn much for nothing." Negan instructs his men, tucking Lucille into his belt loop.
I'm in a daze after what I just witnessed. The sight, sounds, and smells reaffirm that I'm not dreaming, I literally just watched a man get half of his face burned off…
"Darlin'? Hey? Hey!" The sound of Negan's voice pulls me back to reality. I lift my eyes from the gory scene and see him peering down at me. His brown eyes soft for a change, an unexpected observation after what he just did.
"Let's get you back upstairs."
With that, he cuts through my restraints using his trademark hunting knife. The sudden contact of air on my reopened wounds causes me to hiss in pain, instantly grasping my wrists.
Negan lightly prods at my wrists as he looks them over. "Shit, I'll have to patch them up again." He shakes his head as he also sees the cuts on my hands.
I only nod in response, still not sure what to make of what just happened.
I go to stand up, but a sharp pain through my side forces me back down. My frenzied thrashing around while restrained must have aggravated my rib injuries. I just can't catch a damn break…
Seeing my discomfort, Negan stretches his arms forward. "Only if you want to.… I understand if you don't wanna be that fucking close to me, after what you just watched me do," he says, offering to carry me back to his apartment.
The fact that I don't even hesitate to accept his offer momentarily surprises me as I mutter a faint 'it's fine' and allow him to lean down and once again pick me up. He gently snakes an arm around my side, careful not to apply too much pressure to my sensitive ribs, his other arm supporting my legs. I rest my head against the cool leather of his jacket, letting the sensation calm my anxious demeanor after the day's festivities.
"Why are you being so nice?" I whisper.
"I already told ya, 'gentle Negan' does fucking exist towards those who know how to follow the rules. You told the truth, he didn't. He got the shit burned out of him, you didn't. Simple as that."
I steal one final glance towards the heap-of-a-man still unresponsive on the concrete floor. The gleeful smile that was previously on his face is now affixed on mine, the son-of-a-bitch got what he deserved.
"You won't have to worry about him anymore," Negan says as he notices my line of sight.
He gives one last nod towards Dwight and Simon before exiting the room towards the first set of stairs.
"How are you so fucking calm right now?" Negan sincerely questions as he makes his way through the Sanctuary. "You just watched me barbecue a man's face like it was the forth-of-fucking-July and you act like it's just another day at the office."
I ponder my explanation before speaking. "I don't know…. I was deathly afraid for my life the entire time until you turned the iron away from me," I pause to collect my thoughts. "Seeing what I saw should cause me to cower away from you in pure terror. Now, I absolutely fear you," I quickly clarify, causing a smirk from him, "but this also reassures me, in a sense, that you're a man of your word and that I can trust you."
Negan glances down at me in confusion at my words. "Me inflicting excruciating pain on another fucking individual adds more trust? Please explain, darlin', cause ya lost me."
"I didn't fully believe you when you told me that obeying your rules would make for an easier stay here at the Sanctuary. In all honesty, I thought that you would twist every rule around so that you would have an excuse to punish me, even when I didn't deserve it.' I advert my eyes from his as I made the last comment.
'I thought that tonight was going to be just like that even though I was being truthful. It was my word against the word of one of your own man, there was no way that I would expect you to believe me. I truly believed that you were about to burn the side of my face off for an act that I did not commit..." My body begins to shake at the thought of what could have easily happened.
"Shhhh, shhh." Negan calms me as we enter the apartment. "What did I tell you? I don't get off on doing this kind of shit, I only do it because I have to. If you stay in your damn lane, then you've got nothing to worry about, doll. But mess up, and I'm going to get to the bottom of it and you will be punished accordingly. You know this and my fucking men know this. It's as simple as listening to me."
Shuffling past his hanging bedroom door, Negan heads towards the sitting area in his room and carefully sets me down into one of the armed chairs. He quickly steps out to retrieve the first aid kit, returning and assuming the same position as last night.
"So you trust me now?" he questions, raising an eyebrow as he meticulously cleans my wounds.
"I trust that you'll keep your word when it comes to the rules and punishments, you'll hold me to the same standards of your own workers. I won't have to fear that you'll randomly decide to bash my brains in with Lucille for no reason… correct?"
"I'll keep her appetite in check, just don't give me a reason to let her have a fucking buffet with your guts." Negan states in all seriousness.
"Enough said, that won't be a problem... sir."
"Fan-fucking-tastic!" He finishes wrapping the dressings over my wrists and hands, careful to not bind them too tightly. "Done. It's late, go ahead and get your ass in bed."
My tense muscles instantly relax when I lay down on my semi-soft bed of blankets. Cloud nine pales in comparison to the feeling of this bed after the absolute day-in-hell that I have endured.
Negan doesn't even bother to put the first aid kit away, knowing that my bandages will need to be inspected and changed in the morning.
He bends down and grabs the collar on the ground. I wish he wouldn't put it on, but knew that words wouldn't tell him otherwise. Snap, goes the lock as the collar encases my neck once more. The chains oddly felt not so heavy as before, not light as a feather but more of a manageable weight.
I turn my back to him as he once again begins to strip in front of me as he changes into his sweatpants and t-shirt.
"You're missing a hell of a show, sure ya don't wanna sneak a peak?" He playfully chimes in.
"Uhm, no thanks." I reply, keeping my eyes glued to the black carpet.
Negan lets out an exaggerated sigh in mock disappointment. The eventual shuffling of his bare feet on the carpet signals to me that it's safe to turn back around.
I turn over on my back, startled as I bump into Negan's leg in the process. He is standing by his nightstand, phone is hand. His attention is focused solely on the screen, not even acknowledging the brush of contact.
It must be something business related. Whatever it is, it must be important because his thumbs begin to rattle against the screen as he types a lengthy reply.
"Hot diggity-dog!' he excitingly bellows, placing the phone down on the nightstand.
'I've got some good news, darlin'. I just got word that ol' daddy-o has scraped together his first fucking payment! I'm impressed, even I didn't expect his bitch ass to pull it together that damn quick…" Negan shakes his head in genuine astonishment.
Holy shit – I'm going home! Tears of joy can't help but fall from my eyes upon hearing the news. I cover my face with my blanket, knowing that Negan would have a snarky comment about my reaction and situation.
"Yeah, yeah. Hip-hip-fucking-hooray," Negan mutter as he climbs into bed. "Don't get too ahead of yourself now, you do remember that I own your ass right? That doesn't change just because your dad paid me a minuscule fraction of what he fucking owes me. This is only the beginning, darlin'. You'll be back at my Sanctuary in no time at all.' I can see the corners of Negan's mouth rise into a satisfied grin.
'Get some shut eye. Tomorrow is going to be a big fucking day!" Negan gleams as he switches off the light on his nightstand.
Edited by Spitfire47.
I hope that you guys enjoyed the update! What do you guys think? I'd love to hear!