I sat on the floor of the supply truck as it continued moving and tried to calm my ragged breathing. The two men that had joined me remained silent and the thin black bag still sat over my face, preventing me from seeing them. I tried to take deep breaths, but every time I would start to calm down, I would picture Negan standing in front of Philip with his barbed wire bat.

Philip is dead.

The thought kept repeating over and over in my head like a broken record. I had gotten him killed because of my lie—my stupid lie. Danny had betrayed us and now Negan was probably going to torture me. I wondered where his men were taking me. Negan had remained back at Doveport when his Saviors had dragged me away. Maybe his men did the torturing? That sounded right.

After some time, the truck slowed and came to a stop. I heard the engine turn off and felt a hand grab my arm. I tried to pull away and could hear the sound of the truck's doors swinging open. One of the men pushed me, and I stumbled forward and fell out of the truck, landing on the ground roughly. The air was knocked out of me and I coughed, desperately trying to catch my breath. I laid on the ground, my body immediately sore from the hard impact.

"Careful with her!" a slightly familiar voice rang out above me. "I don't wanna have to explain to Negan why his new toy got all scratched up."

Two hands grabbed me once again and pulled me up onto my feet. I found my balance just as the black bag was pulled off my head.

Adam, one of Negan's Saviors, was standing directly in front of me, grinning from ear-to-ear. I stared at him frantically and then looked around at where we had arrived.

It was a huge factory; it had tall smoke stacks sticking out towards the top and large glass windows spanning all the way to the top of the building. I looked back down to the chain link fence that wrapped around the entire building and saw walkers impaled with thin metal beams and tied to the fence itself. They all growled in unison as they reached out in our direction, but remained trapped in place. There were also zombified heads stabbed onto spikes on the top of the fence. I tried to take it all in, knowing full well where I had been brought to before Adam even spoke.

"Welcome to Sanctuary."

I looked back to the tall building and gaped, completely speechless.

"You fucked up bad," Adam continued, and I turned to look at him. He looked so amused; his expression reminded me a bit of Negan, but Adam wasn't as menacing as his leader.

"Fuck you," I spat, scowling at him. I wasn't afraid of him. Negan? Yes. But his men were sheep and I had heard his comment—Negan didn't want me harmed.

Adam chuckled, and then nodded at the two men who were back to gripping my arms. They pushed me forward and Adam started leading the way into the compound. I felt my heartbeat increase as I was led through a door into a dimly lit hallway. We took a few turns until we came to a small, empty room with a cement floor. Adam gestured to it and the men pushed me inside. I stumbled forward and turned to look back at them. Adam approached me and made a "tsking" noise. I felt his hand slide down my hip to my belt and he unsheathed my knife.

"Can't have you slitting your wrists before Negan gets his hands on you," he said, flashing the knife in front of my face before backing out of the makeshift cell.

I glared at him as he closed the door. Once it was pulled shut, the entire room was engulfed in darkness and I couldn't see anything. I stood there a few moments, not knowing what to do. I backed up until I hit the hard wall and I sat down with my back against it. And then I waited.

With no sense of time, the silence started to bother me as I was left alone with my thoughts. Philip was dead. He had to be. Negan said someone needed to be punished, and I had seen him preparing to kill him with that horrible bat. What if he killed the others? What if all of my friends were gone?

I pulled my knees to my chest and hugged them and waited, knowing I would have my answers soon enough. Maybe Negan would kill me, but I needed to know what happened at Doveport before he did. Then he could do whatever he wanted to me…

It felt like an eternity as I sat slouched against the cool, rough wall. I started to shiver from the cold and thought about how much I had taken for granted. I didn't appreciate my bed enough—the bed that Philip had spent so much time building for me.

Philip…

I felt my eyes water at the thought of him. I had been so damn stupid to lie to Negan. My mistake had cost us everything. If the others were still alive they probably hated me for lying about being the leader and giving Danny shelter.

Danny.

Danny had gone back to Negan and revealed everything, and I didn't understand why. We had fed him and given him a place to sleep—Vivienne had even been so sweet to him in that motherly way of hers. Danny had either gotten too scared and ran back, or he had been hiding among us purposely the whole time. Either way, his betrayal killed Philip and I wouldn't ever forgive him for that.

I remained trapped with my guilt and thoughts until the door flung open and light poured into the tiny room. I squinted and sat up from where I had been lying on the floor. I had been so exhausted, but couldn't embrace sleep no matter how hard I tried. Now there was a figure leaning at the threshold of the door staring down at me.

"Having fun?" Negan's voice sang out. I looked away from the bright light of the hallway, trying to let my eyes adjust to it.

"Is Philip dead?" I asked, feeling the tears start to build. I waited for his confirmation, but he didn't say anything and continued to watch me in silence. I turned to look back at him.

"Did you kill him?" I demanded, surprised at how bold I sounded.

"We need to have a talk," Negan ordered. "Get up and come with me."

I stood up slowly and moved towards where he was still standing by the door. He looked so incredibly serious and I felt my heart sink into my stomach. This was it—he was going to punish me.

Negan led me out through the hallway and down another, and as we walked, I watched the baseball bat that laid against his back shoulder. I studied it, trying to see if it had been used recently. It looked impeccably clean, but that didn't mean he hadn't washed it. As we passed a large window I could see the sun was rising high into the sky. It was mid-morning; I had spent the entire night in that cell.

We came to a stairwell and Negan led me up a few flights. We walked into another hallway, and this time there were people. The moment Negan was in their sight, they dropped down onto their knees and bowed their heads down. I watched them, astonished at how they responded to his presence. We marched by them and they didn't even look up from their places on the floor. Negan paid them no mind. I wondered if he had them trained to do that. Everything this man seemed to do was so over the top; I assumed that if he killed me, it would be just as dramatic.

We approached a door and Negan walked right in, while I followed behind obediently. I looked around the room as we entered and realized I was entering a bedroom—and by the looks of it, it was Negan's.

My eyes immediately shifted towards the large bed that was to the left of us. It was perfectly made with its grey pillows and a comforter draped across it. I wanted so badly to flop down onto it and sleep, but my adrenaline had kicked in during our climb up here at the thought of Negan hurting me or having hurt my friends. I needed answers.

I turned and looked at the large window panes and black curtains that were tied back to allow the sunshine in. There was a little living room type of area on the other half of the room. He pointed at a boxy chair, and I sat down in it. He moved across to a black, leather love-seat and sat down across from me. I watched him carefully, waiting for him to speak—after all, he was in control.

I was finally really looking at him, and doing so made me feel self conscious; Negan looked fresh, well-rested, and showered. His hair was slicked back, and he was wearing his black leather jacket, with his pristine, crimson scarf tied around his neck. I hadn't been able to sleep and was suddenly very aware of the bags that probably now lived underneath my eyes.

Negan was looking at me as he leaned back on his sofa.

"I don't tolerate lying," he said coldly. "And what you did was very fucking stupid."

He was right, but I didn't move or speak. I just listened, stone-faced.

"Any other fucking time I would've beat the holy hell out of you for doing it, but I like to think I'm a pretty forgiving guy."

I frowned at him. He raised his eyebrows at me.

"The fuck is your problem?" he asked.

"Is Philip dead?" I questioned, watching his expression for any hints. He rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"I just told you I'm not gonna punish you for flat out fucking lying to me, and you're not even going to say thank you?"

"Please, just tell me if he's okay," I begged, and I heard my voice hitch. I didn't want to cry in front of him again.

Negan let out a loud sigh, and then set his barbed-wire bat on the other side of the love-seat. He put an arm around the back of the sofa, set his boots on the table in front of us, and stretched out. I waited for him to answer me, desperate to know what had happened.

"He's fine. They're all fit as fucking fiddles, okay?" he replied and turned his head to look out the window.

"Really?!" I asked, sitting up.

"Well unlike you, I'm not a fucking liar," he snapped, turning to look back at me with a sardonic expression.

I couldn't help but let out a relieved laugh and I sniffled, still fighting back tears—tears that were now ones of relief instead of worry.

"Baldy is back in charge," he explained, watching my reaction. He almost appeared to be enjoying my response to the good news.

"Thank you." I smiled at him, trying my best to show how grateful I felt. Negan snickered and picked up his bat with one of his hands, then started to spin it absentmindedly.

"And don't be pissed at Danny-boy. He came back to me and pleaded your case. Told me you fucking took good care of him and even hid him right under my damn nose. And I'll be real fucking honest, I had every intention of introducing Baldy to Lucille, but then you begged for his life. Holy fuck, there's just something so beautiful about the sight of a lady on her knees."

I gave him a dirty look, and he grinned mischievously at me. A moment later, his expression turned serious.

"I've done a lot for you, doll. More than I've done for any of these sorry shits. And I fucking get it; I killed your gate keeper. You don't like me for that, but he fucking threatened me. You and I are one in the same."

I had no idea where he was going with this, but I listened intently, feeling it more important than ever to do as he asked. My friends were alive—that's all that mattered.

"You lied because you knew I was a threat to your community. We just handle threats differently. You manipulate them; I eliminate them."

He was right; I really couldn't argue with that logic. I still didn't think Seth needed to die, but he had wanted to take Negan's life. That was all the reason Negan needed to kill him. I had learned about the Saviors and their terrifying leader, and used Danny's knowledge to try and gain an upper hand. It was my attempt to try and survive a little longer. It was why Negan had pulled the trigger. I didn't like it, but I could understand it.

"I like that about you," he continued. "And I could use someone like that here, at the Sanctuary."

I knew where this was going before he finished speaking. He was offering me a chance to live here with him. I was so thankful that my friends were okay, but the idea of not being with them made me feel sick. Negan seemed to be a stickler for the rules, and had bent them for me. I wanted to show him how grateful I was, but leaving my friends wasn't something I was willing to do.

"I'm flattered," I answered him, meeting his gaze. "But I can't live here. I want to go home."

Negan just stared and didn't say anything. I took a deep breath and sat up a bit straighter, hoping I wasn't making a massive mistake in turning him down. His hazel eyes bore into mine and I started to feel uneasy. His expression was completely unreadable.

"My friends need me," I added, hoping it would snap him out of his weird trance.

Negan finally sighed and put a hand to his beard, rubbing it as if in thought.

"How about this: you stay here for one day, and if you still wanna go back to that fucking Birdtown, I'll drive you back there myself."

"Doveport," I corrected him.

"Whatever," he said, waving his hand. "You get a good look at the fucking set up I got going on here and I think you'll change your mind."

I nodded in agreement. He was making me one hell of a good offer; I would be an idiot to try and argue more with him.

"Here." Negan leaned forward and picked up something from the table and offered it to me—it was my knife.

"Thanks," I said, taking it back and looking at it in surprise. He was trusting me with my weapon. I was shocked at the gesture, but then realized why he was doing it. I hadn't been able to attack him with the bat when he had challenged me to kill him. He probably doubted I would kill anyone with my knife.

He stood up and headed towards the door.

"Come on," he said. "Let's find you a tour guide." I stood quickly on wobbly legs, still stiff from spending the night on the concrete floor. I spared a quick glance back at his bed. It looked so comfy; I wondered if he made it himself. I couldn't picture him straightening out the sheets.

I turned to look at him standing at the door, and he was watching me with an amused look. He had caught me eyeing his bed.

"Unless you wanna spend the day rolling around in my sheets," he teased, grinning wolfishly.

"I'm good," I replied, tight-lipped.

Negan shrugged and then headed out the door. I followed him back down the hallway. We made a few turns and then came to a door. Negan knocked loudly a few times and the door opened. A tall woman with short blond hair was standing there and looked at Negan with a curious look.

"Naomi, this is Elle. Someone's gotta give her the grand tour, and I figured since you're not doing any-fucking-thing today, you could actually make yourself useful and show her the ropes."

Naomi looked slightly annoyed for a tiny second, but her expression quickly changed. She let out a deep sigh and then nodded.

"Of course, Negan," she answered obediently. Negan smirked at her and then turned back to me.

"Be good. And if you decide you wanna be naughty and try that bed out, come find me." He leaned down by my ear and whispered, "You can always lie with me."

He didn't wait to see my disgusted look. He turned from the both of us and headed down the hallway with his bat over his shoulder, whistling as he went.

I turned back to Naomi and smiled at her. She smiled back.

Maybe things were actually going to be okay.