A/N Even though these next few chapters are going to be Negan recalling his past to Carl, they're still going to be told in first person. I do what I want.
"Will you please fix the garbage disposal? It's doing that thingy again."
Shit! I stuff the porno magazine back down between the cushion and arm of my chair. "Y- yeah," I clear my throat, rising off the chair. Before she can head back inside, I grab her wrist, scooting her against the wall. "Wanna mess around-"
"Negan, stop." She shoves my wrists away. "I'm not in the mood."
"You haven't been in the mood for-"
The door slams shut.
"Months," I sigh. I turn my attention to the house directly across the street when the worn breaks of a moving truck screech as it pulls up. It's about time. I hit the garage door button before I step inside the house. "Hey, they sold that house across the street."
"It's about time. It only depreciates the value of ours."
I let out a breathed laugh. "Why does the value of our house matter? Thought you were happy here."
"I hate it here. I want to move to Baltimore."
"I don't want to live in the city, Lulu. We had this conversation."
"I don't have time to argue with you! Will you just fix the damn garbage disposal?"
Lucille wasn't always a bitch. We used to have fun together. There was a time when we couldn't keep our hands off each other. Now the only time she touches me is when I'm being slapped, or shoved away. I don't really know what happened. If anything, I look better now than when we got together. I work out several times a week, on top of the training at the school. Maybe she really does resent me for keeping us in this small town. The two of us aren't the most honest with each other. I caught her claiming to do volunteer work at the hospital but instead she had been sneaking off to see an old boyfriend. I never really asked if she did anything with him. I guess because I didn't want to know. She found my wedding ring in my pants pocket one time when she was doing laundry. Asked what it was doing there. I kinda slipped it off, then forgot about it during an away game. I didn't fuck the woman, but I know Lucille doesn't believe me. She doesn't have a reason to. There's no telling how many women I've slept with at the away games. Fidelity isn't really our strong suit, but it doesn't mean that I don't love the fuck out of this woman. "There." I flip the switch to the godawful fucking noise. Or not.
"When you're done, do the dishes."
When did I become such a domesticated vagina?
"Staff meeting."
Boring. Why do the coaches have to go to this shit? At least I can use the time to go over plays in my head. I've learned to zone out while looking like I'm paying attention. It ends after forty-five grueling minutes. "Sprints," I tell the players.
Unanimous groans and moans expel from them.
"Keep it up, we'll run the entire practice."
My pitcher trips and falls flat on his face.
I roll my eyes so fucking hard. "How about you pick your fucking feet up?"
"It hurts, oh god!"
"Eh, don't be a pussy. Just rub some dirt in it." I smack his elbow.
"Ow! I think it's broken."
"Oh, for fuck's sake. Get off my field and go see the nurse."
...
What in the fuck is taking so goddamn long? He's probably milking that shit. I have some of the laziest players. It's a wonder how we're state champions the last few years in a row. Before I can open my mouth and yell at the kid, I turn my attention over by the file cabinet and the woman rummaging in it. Fucking fuck me. I quickly remove my wedding ring, stuffing it in my back pocket. My eyes always travel to the same few places on a woman. Tits. Eh, could be bigger. Face. Flawless. Hair. I'd love to wrap that red hair around my fist. Ring finger. I scoff at the ridiculous piece of jewelry. What a damn fucking shame.
"Oh," she jumps, started.
My eyes shift side to side. "Where's the sea hag?"
Her smile diminishes. "Who?"
"Wait, are you the new nurse?" Jesus, I forgot. The other one croaked.
She nods.
Hellooooooo, nurse. Maybe if I paid attention in the meetings I'd know shit like this. Christ, how did I miss an ass like that? "I think I'm going to have a lot more injured players." Including myself. Shit, these thin gray baseball pants aren't helping matters. I lower my hat in front of my dick.
"You are.." her slate eyes trail upward, "built like a brick shithouse."
"What?"
"Uh, you're really.. large. Buff."
I flash her a mouthful of teeth. "I'm only 6 foot 7... and a half." Her accent is fucking hot. "So, what's England like?"
"I wouldn't know. I've... never been." She seems a bit apprehensive at first, then relaxes. "I'm from Australia, not England."
I'm a fucking idiot. "I'll put another shrimp on the barbie then," I impersonate, but I just end up sounding like a leprechaun.
"We don't call it a shrimp in Australia. We call it a prawn."
"Yeah, I'm going to stop putting my foot in my mouth now."
"Well, at least you're better to look at than you are to converse with," she laughs.
No shit? I embellish my height a little more.
"Your pitcher will be fine. He's been," she scoots closer, "crying," she whispers.
"What a pus- ow," I grunt when she pinches my side. "Heh."
"You may return now," she tells him.
"Alright," he mutters.
"You're about fifty laps behind the others, so I'd hustle."
"What, are you serious? Ugh, this sucks." He trudges from the infirmary.
I saunter over to her desk, leaning against it with one ankle crossed over the other.
She pays me no mind while she continues to fill out his chart.
"So-"
"Oh, you're still here?"
She's kinda jumpy. This is the second time I've startled her. "I'm Negan, or Coach Negan." I point with my thumb to my Devil's jersey.
Her eyes read the text as if she doesn't believe me before they focus back on her paperwork. "Grey."
Wait, that's her name? Guess it's fitting because of her eyes.
"I don't... feel..." One of the freshman brats pukes all over the floor.
Fucking gross.
"Looks like I've got heaps of work."
"Yeah, uh. Nice to meet," I bump into the door frame on the way out, "you."
...
I happen to catch Grey on the way out. Okay, maybe I waited for her.
She keeps her head down when she walks as she hustles to her car.
Goddamn, she's driving a fucking Bentley? Guess her husband makes the money. I don't even know what the fuck I'm doing. She obviously wasn't interested in me in the infirmary. Just because she said I'm attractive doesn't mean shit. I grab one of my outfielders by the back of his shirt. "Say goodnight," I tell him.
"B- Bye," he stammers at the girls.
"Keep it in your pants until after my perfect season."
"Bye, Coach Negan," the girls giggle.
"You girls get home." I steer my player to the parking lot. "You go the other way."
"Alright, later Coach."
Perhaps, I should take my own advice. Waiting for Grey like some stalker. I pull my boots out of my bag, switching them out. This is my absolute favorite part of the day. Driving home on my bike. I usually circle twice around my block before I park, but there's a squad car in the driveway. "Something wrong?" I ask worrisome.
The Sheriff sits comfortably on my couch.
"This is the new Sheriff. He lives across the street," Lucille tells me.
"Blythe."
That's who moved in.
"Negan."
Blythe rises to his feet.
Right away I can tell I'm going to have issues with this prick.
He rests his hands on the sides of his belt, close to his gun, as he puffs his chest out. "You're the baseball coach."
Despite my size, I can tell he's not intimidated by me, and I'm starting to wonder if this town might have a crooked cop. "Yeah. Last couple of years." Baseball is everything to this town. It's kind of hard not to know who I am.
"Are you sure I can't get you more coffee?" Lucille doesn't often blush, but it actually a little pathetic to watch.
"No, I'll be on my way." The corner of his lip curls upward as he gives her a wink.
My eyes shift suspicious as fuck between the two of them. That's my wife, you cocksucker.
"See you at the next home game, Ned."
"It's Negan."
"Right," he snickers, slipping on his Aviators.
Back at you, you fucking fuckwit.
Lucille closes the door behind him, then shoots me a glare. "Why are you being so fucking rude?!"
"I didn't even say a fucking word!"
"It's Negan," she mocks me.
"He fucking called me Ned!"
"He's a busy man."
"Yeah, I'm sure he's real fucking busy, but had time to stop here and have coffee."
"Working late again?" She holds my left hand up, then shoves it to the side disgusted.
Shit. My ring. It's in my pants in my office. I grab her by the wrist. "I wouldn't be jealous of him if I didn't care about you." I bring her closer.
She runs her finger down the front of my shirt.
I lean in to give her a kiss, but she moves back some.
"Dinner's in the fridge."
By dinner she means make myself a sandwich.
She flings her hand away from me, stomping up the steps.
At least there's a blanket on the couch already.
I didn't sleep all that well, and my back is all fucked up from the couch. Guess breakfast is two ibuprofen.
"You never came to bed last night."
I grip the kitchen sink between my fingers, looking over my shoulder. "I don't know what you want from-"
Lucille stands in only a pair of heels. "I wanted to make up."
Is this my Lucille? My eyes roll back in my head, and my back is even more fucked up after we're done.
She points to her ring finger. "Remember that the next time you slip it in your pocket."
I nod my head yes. In fact, it's the first thing I go to once I get to the school.
...
"I thought you fixed the fucking disposal?"
"I haven't even put my fucking keys down, Lulu."
"Don't fucking Lulu me. See? That's your problem. I can't depend on you for anything!"
"You can't depend on me? I work my ass off for you so you don't have to!"
"That's a joke."
"I don't want to fight. Please. Can't you just put back on the heels?" She gets the heels, only they're thrown at my head.
I'm in so much fucking pain when I wake up, it takes me twenty minutes to sit up from the couch.
"What's wrong?"
"My fucking back," I groan.
"Lay back down. I'll call the school and tell them you aren't coming in."
"No. It's our final practice before the game."
She has a seat next to me, before running her fingers through my hair. "I'm sorry, Baby."
"Is this because I won't move to Baltimore?"
"No." She starts to weep.
"Don't cry."
"I love you."
"I love you, too."
"I'll make you some breakfast." She presses her lips to my cheek before she goes into the kitchen.
If I can even make it to the tableā¦
...
I'm leaving early to get some rest. Maybe sleeping in my bed tonight will help. My eyes lock on a tan extended cab in my driveway. Only one person I know drives a truck like that. Her ex. I watch him hurry out of my house suspiciously, and screech the tires when he drives off. Lucille is in the shower when I get upstairs. I patiently wait for her at the foot of the bed.
She's surprise to see me home early, and then comes the look of remorse. "You passed him as he was leaving the house, didn't you?"
I nod my head.
She has a seat next to me, squeezing the towel tighter.
"Lulu, what the fuck are we doing?" I reach into my pocket and set my wedding ring on my knee. I took it off earlier when I saw Grey in the lunch room.
"Is she pretty?"
"Yeah, very."
"Did you fuck her?"
"No."
"Do you want to?"
"Yes."
"Do you realize this is the most honest we've been with each other in years?"
"Yeah."
"I fucking hate your cologne."
"I hate your short hair."
She starts to laugh as I join her.
"Did you fuck Blythe?"
"I tried. He wasn't interested. What's wrong with us?"
"Maybe there's nothing wrong with us. It's natural, right? To be attracted to others?"
"What if we had an open relationship?"
"What happens when I walk in on you fucking some dude in our bed?"
"We'd have rules. You don't speak about the women you're with, and you won't know about the guys. Neither of us bring them back to the house."
I love this woman, and other than our infidelity, our relationship is perfect.
"Are you mad?"
"No," I laugh, rubbing the back of my neck.
"I think we should go about it in a respectful way though. You're important to this town, and I wouldn't want to do anything that would make people think you're a joke if they see me with another man."
This is sounding better by the minute. "How long have you been thinking about this?"
"When I found your ring in your pocket that night."
"No dudes in my bed, Lulu. I'm fucking serious."
"You really want to do this?"
"Fuck yeah." This is fucking awesome! It's like the best of both fucking worlds, and I know the first person I'm putting against the wall.
I thought sleeping in my bed would solve my back problems, but I'm sluggish to get up. Lucille has made a buffet of food, and if there's one thing I love to do it's eat. My eyes trail up the back of her legs to her ass as she's finishing up the pancakes. "Wanna mess around?"
She flips off the stove and gets up on the counter.
Fuck yes! Pain or not, I don't care.
...
"Coach Negan, what's wrong?"
Okay, maybe I do care. I'm miserable as I sit on the bench, and I've already taken six ibuprofen. "Showers," I tell them. I shuffle down the hall, stopping half way down it as I press my hand to the locker.
"Back trouble?" Grey lightly touches her hand to my arm.
"Yeah," I groan.
"Come on." Her arm moves around my waist as she guides me to the infirmary.
It's really no help, but it's kinda nice being waited on like this.
"Lie down."
I don't know what a school nurse is going to do for my back. Shit. I quickly slip off my wedding ring, pocketing it.
"I broke my back when I was a girl. Fell from a roller coaster. There's two titanium rods in my back and twelve screws, so I know a bit about pain."
"Jesus fucking Christ."
"Got free passes to the theme park for life." She gives a chortle at her own words.
"Yeah, I guess."
"Well, and maybe a ridiculous settlement."
So her husband doesn't make the money. "Fuck," I moan in relief. It's like the pressure slowly releases.
"Better?"
"Yes."
"Lie just like that for a bit."
I don't plan on moving.
"Nurse Grey?" Our Principal walks into the infirmary. "I know it's short notice, but would you be willing to chaperone some of the students tomorrow at the away game? One of our other teachers cancelled."
My eyes shift over to Grey. Please say yes, please fucking say yes.
"That should be alright."
"Thank you," he nods, digging in her candy tray before he leaves.
Oh my god, yes. I'm fucking cured. I sit up, then reach for my back. Okay, not fucking really. "Grey, will you do that thing again?"
"Deep breath."
If anyone happens to be listening to the noises I'm making, they would think we are having sex. She pops my back one more time and the pain instantly leaves. "Oh, thank fuck." I sit up with ease for the first time in days. "I can return the favor if you want."
"It doesn't work that way for me."
I wasn't talking about the pain in her back. Shit, Lucille and I might have agreed to this arrangement, but little good does it do if I'm not sticking my dick in Grey.
"How far are we traveling?"
"Ninety miles." I realize after the game Saturday night, we'll be staying in the town until Sunday morning. This couldn't have come at a better time. "Your husband going to be okay with you going out of town for the night?"
"He works a lot."
Lonely wife. Perfect. Grey is a little fucking weird though. She doesn't look people in the eyes when she's talking to them. It's actually pretty fucking disrespectful, but I don't think she means it that way. I thought it was singular to me until the Principal was speaking with her. Maybe I'm really off base here.
She just seems bored with me, and she keeps looking over her shoulder like she's just waiting for me to get out.
"Guess I'll see you about ten tomorrow."
"You're leaving?"
"Think I should rest?"
Her eyes shift over to the door again, then jolt back to me. "Y- yes."
"Yeah, alright. Don't take advantage of me if I doze off now."
Her cheeks turn the color of her hair before she confines herself to her desk.
I've fucked my share of teachers, just never the nurse. Not that I've ever wanted to because the one before her was my nurse back when I went here, and I ain't about that shit. I catch her nervously adjusting her wedding ring as a smug grin starts to creep up the side of my cheek. Looks like I'm finally going to fuck a redhead. I wonder if the carpet matches the drapes.
