Carson brought Rae breakfast. A bowl of granola and a cup of coffee. The milk on the granola was powdered but she didn't mind. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had breakfast in bed or eaten a bowl of cereal with milk (powdered or otherwise). It was all very luxurious. Too felt guilty for lounging around in bed while outside her room she could hear people scurrying around starting the day's work.

The next time Carson returned he was holding a blue plastic crate. "Negan sent these. He'll be collecting you shortly." He set the box on the chair, grabbed her breakfast tray and left.

Inside the crate was a pile of clothes, tags attached and not even a wrinkle in the fabric. There was even a new pair of boots. She pulled all the items out, laying them on the bed one by one until she was holding the underwear. Lingerie would have been a more appropriate term. Delicate emerald green barely there lace. The kind of bra and panties that would have cost more than a week's wages in another life. The kind of material she would have ruined on the first wash.

Rae checked the cup size, a perfect fit. For more than a sweeping thought she wondered if Negan had not only sent these items down for her to wear but hand selected them. He seemed like the kind of man that could guess a woman's measurements with one expert look.

She glanced over her shoulder to check the door was firmly shut before shrugging off her nightwear and pulling on the clothes as quickly as possible. Aside from the lingerie, she'd also been given dark wash jeans and a black tee both of which clung to her body leaving far too little to the imagination. She was grateful it was autumn time and a khaki bomber jacket had been included so she wouldn't feel so exposed.

She was kneeling on one knee lacing up her boot when Negan strolled into the tiny room suddenly commanding all the space.

Her gaze travelled from his boots to his grin. "Good morning," she said. She'd been waiting for him to arrive but now she was wishing she'd had more time. Her stomach was flip flopping like crazy and she hardly knew where to look.

/

Rae stood up awkwardly like a baby giraffe who'd just discovered gravity and its own feet. Fucking hell the woman had legs that went all the way up. It wasn't usually his kind of thing, he liked an out of control rack that he could get lost in. But he couldn't deny there was something very nice about limbs long enough to wrap around him twice. He'd spent half the night and all the morning thinking about the acrobatics of those long legs. "You look good Red."

She blushed, "I'm feeling much better."

"I have that effect on women."

"Actually Carson has taken very good care of me and I've been thinking… It'll be a lot easier if I make my own way home."

"Nice try doll. I said I'd take you home so that's exactly what's going to happen. No negotiations. No complaints." He slid her backpack off his shoulder and held it out.

"Thank you," he could see the relief in her eyes.

"Open it."

Rae turned on her heel, dropping her bag on the bed and pulling open the zipper. She pulled out her Glock, releasing the clip to see the magazine of bullets he'd personally filled. "You didn't have to do that."

"Just no fucking shooting my men okay Red?"

A smile quirked at her lips, "I can try."

It occurred to Negan that Rae was a near perfect stranger who could raise that pistol and kill him right now if she wanted to. It made him wonder exactly what part of his brain had decided to trust her with a loaded gun before realising it must have been his cock. She was useless dead, bullets could keep her alive.

He stepped closer to her, feeling her body tense before he leaned over her shoulder and dug his other gift out of the bag, "no slicing and dicing either."

Rae's thumb brushed along the black handle of the hunting knife before she turned to face him, "okay."

Negan stepped back and gestured to the hall, "ladies first." He sure as fuck didn't mind watching her ass in those jeans.

He guided her through The Sanctuary taking a lesser used route. Anyone they encountered didn't dare say a word to Negan but they certainly looked his way, then to the woman next to him. Rae would have been a head turner before the world went to shit and in these dank grey halls she gleamed as bright as a brand new penny.

He placed his hand on the small of her back, staking his ownership and hurrying her long legs along before any of the big mouthed fuckers who were milling around could incriminate him.

When he was settling her in his truck he could finally breath a sigh of relief and start to believe that at least until he returned her home she wouldn't have to know about his wives or anything else she might not like. For that purpose he'd hand selected 6 men to join him on this drive. They weren't necessarily the best fighters but they were the loyal ones, then ones who knew when to keep their traps shut and not question orders. He couldn't risk any of the sly fuck's like Dwight. He sent him and a couple of others on some bullshit mission that would keep him busy and most importantly away from Sherry or any real trouble for a few days.

Negan grabbed the map from the driver's side, handing it to Rae, "which way's home Dorothy Gale?"

"You a big fan of musical theatre?"

"I'm a big fan of redheads."

Her eyes fell straight to concentrating on the map, her long fingers absentmindedly twirling hypnotic circles in the end of her red ponytail. Fucking hell, she sure as shit was a head turner. Out here in the sunshine her hair was redder, her eyes more green, she was a real trophy. He'd swore off a sixth wife but he could definitely make an exception.

"Here," she passed him the map, a little circle marking out the middle of nowhere location.

"Thats a hell of a drive Red."

She cocked one eyebrow, her face all business like, "I've already said I'll be fine on my own."

"You're my guest and lucky for you princess I always take care of what's mine."

Rae's eyes went a shade darker as she quickly swivelled in her seat, trying in vain to get passed him, "I don't belong to you Negan."

"Calm the fuck down Red. I found you, I fixed you up. By all fucking accounts that makes me responsible for you. So until I get you home in one fucking piece you bet your ass belongs to me."

"I'm not a lost puppy."

He smiled, looked along her body, "oh you better fucking believe I've noticed exactly what you are."

"And what's that?" she bit, making him wonder where the hell sweet little Rae had disappeared to.

"A beautiful woman with a giant fucking chip on her shoulder."

"You don't know the first thing about me." She slumped back into the chair, eyes forward, jaw set indignantly. "Don't you need to show you're men the map?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely. You just sit tight, Red." As quick as he slammed the door of the truck he was opening it back up , "and one more thing, I've taken a keen fucking interest in the niceness of your ass so don't try anything stupid."

/

The convoy made slow progress. Rae had thought being in the truck with Negan would be uncomfortable but it wasn't. Probably because he didn't actually say much. He was focused on the road, always alert for danger or opportunity. His vigilance made her feel safe even if he was a macho, conceited, perverted yet devilishly handsome asshole.

God, why did he have to be such an asshole? Why did he have to look at her like she was a steak dinner and he was a starved man? Mostly she couldn't understand why her body betrayed her doubts every time she looked at him. Self assured bad boys were nothing but trouble at the least and destruction at the worst.

Despite Negan's obvious flaws Rae couldn't deny that for the first time in a long time she felt like she could sit back and not have to worry, at least for a while. It felt nice, a vacation from the things that kept her up at night. Negan didn't even let her out of the truck to help clear the road or kill halfers along the way. All she had to do was enjoy the ride.

She snuck a look at him, one hand on the wheel and the other on his barbed wire bat. She wanted to trust him but she'd trusted people before.

The truck ground to a halt, "we're gonna have to call it a night doll."

The sun was hanging low in the sky, soon it would be dark, "I agree."

He laughed, "I'm glad. Your satisfaction is my ever-fucking-lasting priority Red. Any objections to spending the night in a bar?"

'Lucky's.' The yellow neon sign was half smashed and all dull. She jumped out of the cab of the truck, grabbing her rucksack and giving Negan his answer. The less words she actually said to him the better. The less time she spent with him the better.

She wondered who the hell would build a bar all the way out here. There were no houses or civilisation. Just the bar and its surrounding pine trees. The gravelled carpark contained one stationwagon, its door hanging open. She peered in and there was nothing but water damaged upholstery.

"Boss don't want you wandering off," the one called Mark said, as he took a seat on hood of the car lighting up a cigarette and watching her every move.

"I'm just looking around," she slammed the door of the stationwagon walking away and leaving her guard behind. Negan said she wasn't a prisoner but he had a funny way of making her feel like one.

The windows of Lucky's were half boarded up with plywood and the door was wedged wide open with a body lying face down and decomposed into nothing but a dried out puddle of goo, tattered clothes and bones. She shuddered watching another of Negan's men kick the remains from the door like it was nothing but trash.

"You might wanna stay out here a while," Mark suggested, still puffing on his cigarette and ghosting her every step.

Rae took Mark's advice walking around the perimeter of the building while Negan's men secured the inside. A night in a bar with seven men was the last thing she wanted to do but she resigned herself to it.

"That your natural colour?" Mark asked. Rae felt her face screw up as she looked at him in disbelief. As if she had time to be colouring her hair or anything as self indulgent as that. She didn't even answer him.

Inside Lucky's Negan's men had made themselves at home. From the looks of the bar the booze was long gone but there was still a pool table, a dart board and a general relaxed feel of simply being in a bar.

She took a seat in one of the pleather booths and Mark finally left her side to join his friends. Negans men had lit a fire hazard amount of tealights around the room and now they were standing by the pool table placing bets with cigarettes as currency.

Eventually Mark came back over handing her a bottle of water and a can of chicken supreme. The sloppy looking image on the front made her stomach turn over and she hadn't dared her first bite before Negan was sliding into the seat across from her, his knees knocking against hers.

"Where've you been?" she asked.

"Miss me?"

"That's not an answer."

He laughed, stretching his arms out across the back of the seats, "neither was that."

"Well I asked you first." Spoken like a five year old.

"I was securing the truck, hiding the bikes. Can't trust these fucks not to fuck things up. So," he leaned his elbows on the table, "you miss me?"

"No," Rae pulled the ring pull from her dinner and ignored him, or at least tried to. His ego was big enough to fill the entire inside of the bar, there was no way she was going to add to it. She was certain he did the same overbearing flirting with every last woman he met.

Before she had a chance to dip her spoon into her dinner Negan's fingers plunged into the can taking out the piece of chicken that was floating on the top. She watched him throwing it into his mouth, licking his fingers clean with a wink, "fuck me Red."

"What?"

"You sure that shit's not fucking cat food?"

She huffed pushing the can towards him, "that shit was supposed to be my dinner."

"Yeah well I've just fucking saved you from a whole world of pain. But don't worry, I'm sure I can find you something else to get your mouth around."

"Don't bother," she stood, "I've lost my appetite."

/

"Fuck," Negan whispered under his breath as he watched Rae walking away. Unlike his wives who handed themselves over for an easy life and the prestige of being in the harem Rae didn't give a shit. She didn't care about his power or his point system, she had no fucking idea about any of it.

He couldn't remember the last fucking time he'd pursued a real woman or the last time he'd been this fucking awkward about doing it. She was making him feel like an inadequate pimple faced fucking 15 year old again.

Donnie passed her a cigarette before lighting the end and getting far too fucking close and personal while he did it. It bothered him, it made him want to make Donnie spend the rest of the night on duty outside. Then it occurred to him that Rae could be a married fucking woman for all he knew. Not that it would stop him. Nothing could stop him now he'd set his sights on her and he was nothing if not determined.

She walked across the bar toward the door and he made a deal, if she looked at him he'd follow her if not he'd let her go. For now. She looked, the quickest little green eyed glance but it was enough. Mark made a move to follow her when she stepped outside but Negan stopped him. "I got her."

Rae was walking against the treeline, a stream of smoke following her every step.

"Thats a dirty fucking habit you got there Red."

She didn't miss a beat, "you sound like my Grandma."

"I've been compared to a lot of things. Never a fucking Grandma."

"Glad I could be of service."

Jesus Fuck, she'd got her strength back, no more meek and mild half dead Rae, "are you always such a bitch?"

She shot him a look, "that depends. Are you always such a potty mouthed letch?"

"That's just all part of my irresistible fucking charm."

Rae snorted, "does your charm work on a lot of women?"

"I'm only interested in it working on you," he twirled Lucille stalking his way around the parking lot to where Rae was standing, "is it?"

"No," she said quickly, breathlessly. "I find you… intimidating."

Intimidating, with the lip she was giving him he found that hard to believe. "You sure as fuck don't seem very intimidated."

Her gaze swept along him, "well I can't exactly run away crying from all the things I don't like."

"You don't like me Red? I'm fucking wounded."

"I don't know you."

His boots crunched along the gravel until he was standing directly in front of her, "then ask me anything..."

She dropped her cigarette down, stamping it with her boot, "would you have helped me if I was a man?"

Rae was tall for a woman. He didn't have to crouch down or bend in half to look at her face. All he had to do was tilt her chin and it was all right there. Bottle green eyes and soft pursed lips. His eyes grazed her lips for more than a fleeting look, he didn't kiss women, at least not on the lips, "probably not."

Her tongue licked along her bottom lip, her gaze drifted from his face to his chest, "it's getting late." Then she walked away. Again.

He laughed under his breath. He was crashing and fucking burning in his race for Rae's panties. Fucking hell, when he'd picked out those wisps of green lace this morning he was pretty fucking sure he'd be ripping them off tonight. Now the idea of that green lace was taunting him like a big fuck you.

Lucille tapped at his ankle, a gentle reminder that she was the only woman he could ever trust. Other women were just ass, pussy, fun and nothing else. Hell, sometimes they weren't even that much goddamn fun. He wasn't sure why he was letting this fucking redhead give him the runaround.

When he walked into the bar he spotted Rae curled up in one of the booths, her jacket over her shoulders and by all accounts dead for the night. But there was not a shitting chance in hell that she was sleeping. Nobody went to sleep that fucking fast. Not unless he'd given them the workover of their lives and they passed out from sheer motherfucking post orgasmic exhaustion. She'd missed out on that fucking opportunity, at least for tonight.

/

Rae had lain cramped and uncomfortable for hours as she turned her options over in her head. Negan had saved her and by all accounts he was only trying to help her but she couldn't shake the doubt. More than anything she knew she couldn't trust her own judgment. She always looked for the good in people, always had. But she'd also been naive far too many times before and in return she'd never met a man who hadn't let her down. She couldn't make that mistake again.

The men were snoring. Mark had been tasked with watch and a couple of minutes ago he had disappeared outside. This was her chance. She eased herself from her temporary bed, slow and steady, pausing after every squeak of the pleather. She'd already checked out her escape route on an earlier trip to the ladies, and her walkaround of the bars' perimeter.

She crept through the darkness that was lit only by the remains of a couple of almost extinguished tealights. Slipping through the bathroom window was easy, it was a good size and she had already opened it so the noise was minimal.

In no time at all Rae was outside and pulling on her rucksack when she heard the crunch of gravel. She leaned back into the the bar, desperately trying to sink into the brickwork and be as flat as possible.

From the light of the moon she could just about make out the outline of a man's head and shoulders, the tip of a cigarette glowing, moving from head height to hip rhythmically, endlessly. Every second of time made her heart beat a little faster and the instinct to run for the trees a little more desperate but she waited. Eventually Mark flicked the cigarette through the air without a care to extinguish the smouldering ember then turned on his heel, crunching along the gravel until she could just about hear the door of the bar thudding closed.

A/N- Big thank you to everyone who is reading, subscribing and especially those of you who left a comment. It always makes my day to know you're enjoying my story :)