Warning: this chapter contains depictions of rape and attempted rape.

Chapter 41

Later that night, Daryl ventured back down to the hideaway. He'd taken the time between now and his visit with Sherry to rest as much as he could and gather his thoughts. He wanted the truth from Roxanne, and assuming he was going to get it from her, he needed to have a straight line of thought. Before he could propose Dwight's idea for escape to Everly, he needed to have her trust back. And whether or not Daryl had actually slept with Roxanne, he was going to be truthful with Everly. He just hoped that she'll forgive him and agree to leave by his side. That's all that mattered to him at this point.

When he stepped in, the hideaway was much more crowded than before, which he had counted on, because if people were present, then Roxanne was sure to be amongst them. He drifted in between tables and chairs, between raucous groups and drinking loners. Daryl might have taken up a chair to sit with one of the introverts if he was feeling sociable and not here for another purpose. In it way, it made him realize how different everyone here was. Not all of them were delinquents or dimwits with a knack for violence. Some were reserved and stuck to themselves, and that seemed to be for a reason.

Who'll be on our side? Daryl wondered, but he pushed the question aside and focused on what he came here to do.

He found her by a group of men, schmoozing and flirting as they laughed and drank. She was in her typical get-up, which wasn't much, and she flung her honey blonde hair over her shoulder as she sat on one of the men's lap. Daryl heard the tail-end of her comment to the guy as he came up behind they chair the sat on.

"-fifty points and I'll be all yours for the night. What do you say, baby?"

"I'll give you a hundred if you come with me now," Daryl spoke and Roxanne sprung up from the man's lap like she'd been bitten. She eyed Daryl nervously.

"The fuck, man?" The guy twisted around in his chair to give Daryl a nasty look. "Find your own lay somewhere else."

"A hundred," Daryl offered her again, not giving the man an ounce of his attention.

She seemed to think about it, sticking on hip out in a coquettish way as she considered his offer. She looked mildly doubtful of him, but she assumed to resign to his suggestion, giving him a small nod and a smile.

"Fucking bitch," the guy sneered. "I didn't want your used-up pussy anyway."

Roxanne face twitched slightly at the insult, but she took Daryl by the hand and held her head up high. She tugged on him to follow her and as he did, he knocked one of the back legs of the man's chair from under him and he tumbled to the ground with a curse.

"Quick," Daryl urged Roxanne with his shoulder against hers, and they wove through the room and to the door as the man and his gang began yelling at them.

They flew up the stairs to Daryl's room, Roxanne laughing breathlessly as she clung to his hand. Daryl wasn't feeling mischievous like she was, but he didn't let on to that. She was supposed to think he wanted her, and she had been wary of him at first, but he must have given her a shot of assurance when he dumped that asshole on the floor.

He opened the door to his room and pulled her inside. Roxanne glided in after him as he shut the door and she wrapped her arms around his neck hungrily, pulling his face towards hers. He strained against her wrangling hands and gripped her wrists to peel her off of him.

"Sit," he commanded and directed her to his bed with an index finger.

She issued him a look of hurt before a light shone behind her eyes. She gave him a lascivious smirk as she trailed slender fingers up her belly, exposing herself as she went.

"Yes, sir," she replied seductively.

"No," Daryl said and grabbed her hands. He shoved her gently, but insistently to the bed. "Just sit."

She furrowed her brow in confusion. "Okay."

Roxanne took a hesitant seat on the bed as Daryl shifted on his feet.

"Did we fuck?" He asked blatantly, not wanting to skirt around the issue.

"What?" She asked, almost offended. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, did me 'n you have sex?"

Roxanne scoffed and folded her arms and crossed her legs. She looked away from him, silently fuming.

"You woke up with me beside you naked, didn't you?" She cocked an eyebrow at him. "What does that tell you?"

Daryl huffed out a breath through his nose. He was getting just as riled up as she was because it was clear to him she was sitting on the truth like a mother hen.

"It tells me that I was either set up or we had sex. It can only be one of the two," Daryl said. "I don't remember jack shit; I was lit off my ass. The only thing I do remember was you crawlin' on top of me and tryin' to talk me into it. I nearly gave in, but…I don't think I did."

Roxanne was nervously ticking her foot, the motion causing the bed to hiccup out tiny squeaks with the rhythm. She was starting to look guilty, and Daryl thought he finally found his answer. He went to sit beside her and placed a hand on her knee, compelling her foot to stop jittering.

"It's alright if we didn't and you made it seem like we did. I understand why ya did it even if it makes me madder than hell," he told her gently, but the gruffness in his voice started to make an appearance as he finished speaking. He took his hand from her knee and put it in his lap. He didn't want to be near, let alone touch, her anymore.

"He made me," Roxanne whispered and lowered her head.

"Doesn't take a fuckin' genius to figure that one out," Daryl retorted.

"You don't have to be an asshole about it," she flared back.

"And how do ya expect me to react to it?" Daryl snapped at her and got up to walk to his door. He put the hand on the knob, ready to show her out. "I don't hate ya, Roxanne. I know ya had your reasons because I don't mean nothin' to you, but you fucked me over."

"Not in the literal sense, anyway," she replied sarcastically with a tilt of a thin eyebrow.

"Get out," Daryl told her, and opened the door.

Roxanne stood, her heels clattering ostentatiously on the concrete floor as she stomped up to him.

"I thought you were one of the good ones," she said, her voice breaking on the last word.

Daryl watched as tears flooded her eyes, and he was close to feeling guilty. He did pity Roxanne, and he told her as much the night that they had spent together. But it didn't give her the excuse to play around with his life whether or not she was acting on Negan's orders. She'd chosen the name she lived by here, and while Daryl realized it might've been a harder decision for her to make than he could fathom, he found himself sympathizing with it less now that he was a victim of her manipulation.

"There ain't any good ones left, Roxanne. You should know that by now."

She nodded her head, angry tears falling down her cheeks. She wiped them away with a quick swipe of her hand.

"We do what we can, right?" She shrugged a shoulder. "At least you didn't give in to the tricks. That does make you a good one. I'm just sad that you're too good for me."

Her words were like acid, but she left then and Daryl hung onto the knob of the open door as he listened to her clattering footfalls fade away. He took a moment to feel sorry for her before pushing her into the abyss of his mind. She wasn't his concern anymore now that his conscious was clear. All he needed was to see Everly again, tell her the truth, and then get her and himself the fuck out of this industrial sized cage because it wasn't going to be their home any longer.

It was threatening to storm as we travelled back south. I watched as the sky began to purple and darken. A lightning strike arched through the sky as thunder rolled over our heads, booming its way into the privacy of my thoughts. I kept my hands in my lap and my knees pressed together as I rode between Simon and Negan. The bat wielding asshole had let me back into the truck with them although he hadn't seemed very happy with me since our spat earlier this morning. He had been curt as he advised me to collect my things, and he'd remained that way through the course of our afternoon drive. It was early evening now and we rolled to a stop at the mattress warehouse once more.

"Let's rest and fuel up," Negan informed his Saviors through the walkie. "Thirty minute break. Then we roll back out. I wanna beat this raging bitch of a storm that's about to come through."

The accompanying vehicles gave their correspondence and the line of them made their pit stop once more in the desolate parking lot of Mattress Ware.

As Negan and his men began to fold out from their transports, I found myself wanting to stay inside. We'd ridden for the better part of the day; Somerset and its counterpart being well over the West Virginia state line. My legs and back were still achy and cramped from sitting so long, but I didn't make a move to leave the truck. I wanted to be alone to brood.

I went unnoticed at first, Simon slamming the driver door and Negan leaving the passengers' wide open for me to follow through. The group driving the box truck that held most of our supplies began distributing portions of food and drinks while others stretched out and talked. It wasn't until another spear of lightning and a roar of thunder that cut through the air did my absence become notable.

Everyone started to huddle in front of the building doors, waiting for them to be unlocked and unchained. I leaned over and peered up through the windshield to observe the black and blue sky when Negan's deep voice startled me.

"You waitin' for a tornado to come by and sweep you away to Oz?"

"If that's what it takes to get away from you." I sat back but kept my eyes up to the sky.

"Well, I don't see the green tint of a frog's butt crack roiling around up there, so you might be sitting with your thumb up your ass for a while."

I cut a glance at him then, but it was short lived. I let out a sigh as I settled back into the seat and crossed my legs. I was tempted to say that I wasn't going to go anywhere, but then I would be a hypocrite after I reamed him about his lack of trust in me. I couldn't expect him to begin thinking of me as trustworthy if I lacked the ability to tolerate his presence. I had to work for it no matter how grueling it would be. He needed to know that I wasn't all talk; I had to show it to him, prove it, too. But if he was smart, he wouldn't trust me even then.

"Can I just have a minute by myself?" I asked politely. "Maybe take a walk?"

Silence emanated the space between us, but eventually, I heard Negan let out a slow breath. "I didn't expect you to say yes."

"Then why did you ask?" I countered.

"For shits and giggles, I guess," he answered, a smile hidden in his voice, but he sighed again. "It was worth a shot."

"You're a high shooter, then."

"I don't know what you fucking expect from me. You asked me to trust you and I gave you a good fucking opportunity. It was you who turned your pretty nose up at it," Negan said.

"Marrying you wasn't what I meant." I looked at him again. "My life is not a fucking bargaining chip!"

My shout was loud, and I hadn't expected it to be quite so, but Negan gazed at me resolutely.

"You want to take a walk? Alone?" His brows lowered as I nodded. He considered me for a moment. "Laura will go with you."

"Please, Negan," I begged.

"Laura will go with you," he repeated stoically but his tone held a slight edge. "We'll work on this whole building trust thing, but you've got a lot of work ahead of yourself to have any damn sort of independence. I'll make sure you have your space so that it feels like you're by fucking yourself."

I gazed down at my hands as they worried against each other and huffed in agreement.

"Alright," I said and looked back at him. "I can go anywhere?"

Negan dipped his head once and said, "So long as it's not too damn far from here."

"How far is too far?" I asked as he started to back away to the glass warehouse doors.

"I'll let you judge that for yourself. Our status quo with trust starts now. We'll see how far you can get," he replied before turning around and going inside.

"So much for having faith," I whispered to myself grumpily, but I couldn't blame him. I wouldn't trust me quite yet in his position either.

I slid to the edge of the bench seat and sat by the open door, letting my legs dangle over the side and into the open. The wind was starting to build up, and I could smell the ozone as the pregnant clouds pressed together. From my left, I heard the glass doors open and close along with the sound of rubber treading on asphalt approaching me.

"You're really keeping me busy this weekend, ginger," Laura called to me but I didn't look at her.

I hopped down from my perch and slammed the truck door.

"I'll keep it brief," I reassured her as I passed by and headed toward the back of the building.

If she had a remark, I didn't hear it, and I walked briskly to the tree line that sat at the end of the warehouse. Negan had told me there was a small river near here, and that sounded like a peaceful place to sit and watch the gathering storm, have a few minutes to myself, and possibly relax.

Trudging through the undergrowth, I was careful not to snag myself on any fallen debris. I heard Laura shifting through the thickets a few feet behind me, and I looked over my shoulder at her. She widened her eyes as she gave me a disgruntled shrug, but when I didn't relent, she waved a hand at me to go on and placed the other on her hip. I turned to continue walking, going slowly so as to hear her footsteps following mine, but I didn't and the tension gently eased from my stiff shoulders.

I moved my head back and forth, trying to stretch the muscles in my neck and collect myself. Other than my previous work out, I had slept on a very cramped loveseat. It hadn't exactly done wonders for my intensely used limbs, but this walk was helping to stretch them a bit. The only other thing that could give me relief was another salted bath to soak in, but that had been a fleeting indulgence. I was content with what I had received, yet that didn't stop me from yearning for more.

The feeling of need, of desire, had my attention switching to Daryl. I missed him immensely, and as time wore on, and new information took shape in front of me, I realized how petty our situation was. I had a valid reason to be upset with him, to not want to be close to him much anymore, but I felt that divide ripping me apart. I wanted to be near him, to feel his love for me, and to hear his deep, gravelly voice again. He was my best friend; the only person I could truly depend on. And we had bigger things to be concerned about than the skirmishes of our relationship, whatever it was.

When I got back to the Sanctuary, I was going to find him and tell him I was sorry. It didn't matter anymore what happened with Roxanne; it was all so trivial now. All Daryl and I needed to do was focus on the details of circumventing Negan. After that, and once Negan becomes a pest that's gone for good, we could work on each other. I only knew that I didn't want to give up on him. My entire spiel about trust to Negan related to more than just one person in my life. If I wanted it, I had to practice it, too.

I was starting to wonder if Negan had told me the truth about the river. It felt like I'd been walking for miles, which in reality had only been a few minutes, when finally I heard the rushing gurgle of water. A smile graced my lips, and I took a few more striding, yet careful, steps to see the crystalline waters sweeping over rocks and through a bend. It was as picturesque as I imagined it to be, and I slipped down to its edge to sit atop a misted boulder.

Once I was comfortable, I looked behind me to see if Laura had made an appearance yet. I didn't see her blonde head poking from the crest of the small hill I'd descended, so she must be a few feet back. Obviously, she wouldn't have let me out of her sight as per Negan's assumed orders. I didn't have to hear them to know that his reliance on me was limited, but at least he was providing me a looser leash – even if it wasn't ideal, it wasn't constricting anymore.

Ignoring Laura's eventual arrival, I took off my jacket and set it to the side, savoring the flow of the chilled, dampened air as it picked up again. I lied belly down on the boulder to scoop up the bubbling water and splashed it over my face. After working up a small sweat with my mini hike, it was just what I had needed. I rinsed my face with a few more handfuls, running wet fingers to smooth back my hair and sat up on my knees. I wished I had a band to tie my hair back, but for now I twisted it at the nape of my neck and let the unfastened bun slowly untwine down the middle of my back.

I thought about taking my boots and socks off to let my feet soak in the water. I envisioned spreading my toes out as the icy stream coursed over them and soothed my aches, but like any other possibility of reprieve in this world, my tiny break by the river was momentary. It was cut through by a distant shriek; one of desperate and primal fear. It perked me up in apprehension, and I slowly push myself to my feet as my eyes dashed around the darkening trees across the running stream.

Through the tittering of birds and the sloshing water below me, everything seemed still for a moment. There was no gunfire or pounding footsteps. No demanding voices or lament from the dead. I heard nothing else except the sounds that lived in the forest, but then the same scream came again, closer this time and more visceral.

I felt my heartbeat in my fingertips and the shout of Laura calling my name caused me to jump. I dug the heels of my boots into the rock as I swayed, nearly falling in the water, but I took a stumbling step back and scanned the sheltered trees in front of me again.

"What the fuck was that?" Laura asked, coming to a stop above me.

I shook my head. "I don't know."

The scream pierced the atmosphere again, an earth shattering cry.

"Let's go," Laura demanded. Her hand went to the gun at her hip.

"No," I said, almost instinctually, and I bounded from the rock on to another and then another until I had crossed the river.

"Everly," Laura warned in a strained voice.

"Someone needs help," I called back with a short glance at Laura. She was furious.

"And you'll need mine if you go any further, but guess what? No one can help the dead."

"Then you'd better stop me," I replied and turned my back on her.

I pushed through the brush, slipping past the maze of trees as I ventured farther into the expanding woods. A bark of thunder filled the space around my head, a distant rumble from my left. The storm was close but it hadn't reached here quite yet. I looked over my shoulder again to note Laura's absence. Surely she was rushing back to tell Negan what I had done, but I refused to let that bother me. It was Laura's choice to abandon me, not the other way around. She could have easily followed, but she ran away like a coward instead.

Fuck them. Fuck all of them, I lashed out silently. It may be a dog eat dog world, but that didn't mean the world lacked dignity. It was just hard to find, and I was determined to bring what was left of that gem to light.

What you're doing is dangerous, I argued with myself, and that was true. It was stupid to ignore that fact, but I couldn't hear a cry of distress and not do something about it. The trouble was that I didn't know what I could even do. I would have to play it by ear, figure out what was happening first, and hopefully come up with a way to save this person from whatever danger they were in if I wasn't too late.

The certainty of coming to the aide of strangers in need was questionable. It may be a redeeming, albeit reckless, quality of mine, but it was definitely on track to becoming my modus operandi. As much shame as I've felt in myself since Mason's death, aiding others wasn't going to be another reason. I would work on myself by abetting those who required it. It was what I did best.

As I jogged deeper into the forest, I heard strangled cries and the sound of men. I slowed down my pace and crouched low to stay unnoticed as a sense of unease was overcame me. I grasped at my neck to pull up my hood when I remembered I left my jacket by the river. I swore at myself and ducked even lower. I was like a flashing buoy in the middle of the ocean with my auburn hair. Whoever was up ahead would spot me in an instant, so I stayed blended with the bushes and trees as I edged closer to the sound of voices.

"Hold her hands down," a man said and I heard the ripping of cloth.

"No!" A girl's voice shouted and she let out another guttural wail.

"Shut the fuck up already!" Someone else yelled which was followed the by the sound of skin hitting skin.

I kept frozen against the trunk of the tree I hid behind, trying to decipher what was happening without looking. I didn't want to be too obvious, and a lack of any sort of weapon was hindering me. Not that it might do much good if there were a lot of people to fight off, but a gun or a knife in the midst of an attack was better than my bare hands.

"Keep your pretty head down, dear, and your fucking legs open. The more you fight back the more it'll hurt," the first man said and it was clear then what was going on.

"You keepin' an eye out for the carpers?" Another man asked.

"Yeah, I'm watching," a new voice replied. The snap of footsteps on fallen branches and dead leaves came closer to me as they began to circle the perimeter.

The girl's cries were muffled now and the sound of more clothing being ripped began a new conversation. I counted five voices, each from a different man. They were cruel, they were hungry, and I didn't know what to do to stop them.

I glanced back in the direction of the river, denying the instinct to run. If Laura had gone back to Negan to tell on me, she sure was taking her fucking time about it. The way I bet she was scrambling to cover her ass, she was going to paint the picture of me cutting lose, and I supposed her cowardice could be to my advantage if it brought Negan here. But what was taking them so long?

I could go back. Maybe I would meet them halfway and tell them what I came upon. Negan might help, but then, he might not. What else could I do, though? I had no other option. I ran up here thinking I'd catch some lone survivor surrounded by walkers, not by a gang of sadistic rapists. That was an inclination that hadn't entered my mind and now I felt torn.

I took in a silent, deep breath and gingerly inched my head around the tree. When I spotted a man staring into the woods, I jerked back. He hadn't been looking at me, but he was close by. If I left now, he would see me and I wasn't confident that I could out run him. I juggled on what to do when his voice spooked me.

"Carper!"

Its tedious shambling was audible then and I looked to my right to see a walker heading straight in my direction. How it singled me out with what was going on behind me, I didn't know. The girl was crying, her pain evident in every whimper, and my stomach dropped to my knees at the jeering men. I closed my eyes, willing the walker to move away or become distracted somehow when the person on watch passed behind my tree and over to the walker.

He strode up to it, almost in a business-like way. He unsheathed a knife from his side and waited as the corpse deviated from its course and came for him. The man glanced briefly over his shoulder, his searching eyes not quite reaching where I huddled, before he faced the living dead again and impaled its head just as it reached for him. I saw that he was young, probably even my age, and he looked fast, strong.

"How is it, Ben?" A man asked.

"It's old. Not fresh enough," Ben said as he eyed the downed body and wiped his dirtied blade on it. "It was headed for something, though…"

His words fell flat as he turned around and spotted me.

My blood froze and my fingernails dug into the tree bark, the sap gluing me to it. We stared at each other, and I pleaded to him silently as he gazed at me in a surprised sort of way. When he lowered the knife and held it parallel to the inside of his tensed forearm, I bolted.

"Hey!" A shout echoed behind me, but I kept running as the next words yelled were, "Ben's got her."

And he did, because I had barely formed what to do in my head besides panic when his weight hit me.

We tumbled to the ground, sliding in the dirt as he gripped my shoulder and spun me to lie on my back. I struggled against him, letting out a raging scream as I scratched and hit him. He gained control of my wrists and pinned them down in the dirt as he peered down at me angrily. His lip was bloody, so I had gotten a good shot in at least.

"Let me go!" I yelled in his face.

He smiled at me, his teeth stained red from the blood on his lip.

"Now why would I go and do something as stupid as that?" He asked and yanked me up.

I fought as he took me from behind and held me to his chest, strapping my arms down with one of his and holding the tip of his knife to the underside of my jaw. He moved me forward, my feet clumsy against the push of his, and every time I stumbled, the lone tooth of his blade threatened to bite.

"Keep walking, bitch. I won't waste a life if I don't have to," he mumbled in my hair.

He directed me to the circle of men who were now watching us, their interest in what was happening before briefly interrupted. I closed my eyes as they fell on the sight of the girl half-naked and sprawled out sobbing in the middle of them. I fought the urge to cry; not wanting to damn myself to what I imagined was the inevitable situation here. Now that there were two of us, not as many of them had to watch anymore.

"Where the fuck did you come from?" A man asked, and I opened my eyes to see all of them observing me expectantly.

When I kept my mouth shut, a guy with tan skin, dark hair, and a long beard stepped forward. His black-brown eyes looked over me warily.

"You don't look like you've been living on the land all on your lonesome," he commented. "Who're you with? Are they nearby?"

I pressed my lips together. They weren't going to get anything out of me.

"He asked you a fucking question," Ben yelled in my ear, slamming an elbow in my side.

I hunched over in agony, my constricting throat seizing for air. I coughed and gasped, trying to slide out of Ben's hold, but he kept me upright with the point of his knife under my chin. The black-haired man stepped forward, a slight smile on his lips.

"You don't have to tell me anything right now, sugar. It's all pedantic," he crossed his arms and stroked his beard, running his tongue over his teeth. "We'll just move this party back to our camp, and when we're done buttering you up, maybe you'll be inclined to speak a little."

"No!" I gasped, my feet weakly pushing against the ground.

"Okay, it's all up to you," the guy raised his hands. "But we'll get what we want whether it's information out your mouth or...what you're packing under those clothes."

He gazed over me again, his eyes more direct and lingering this time. He closed the gap between us, setting himself closer to me as he smiled fleetingly at Ben. He leveled me with an unflinchingly stone-cold glare.

"And just between you and me, you can keep this silent, futile fight up. It doesn't bother me none. 'Cause truth be told," he peered deeply into my eyes, "I like a struggle."

I lashed out, catching the man in the shin with the toe of my boot. He grunted slightly in pain but covered it with a laugh as Ben roughly pulled me back.

"What do you want me to do?" He asked as I continued to squirm in his arms.

"Fuck, put her on the ground," the man said with an irritable smirk and rubbed his leg. "Tear of her clothes and gag her with the scraps. You can get started with this one while I finish with the other."

Ben lifted me up and dropped me on the ground forcefully. The air rushed out of me, my diaphragm spasming as I gripped the ground, fighting for air. His knee hit my back, sending me face first into the dirt as my throat finally opened up, allowing a short burst of air to be drawn in and cruelly pushed back out. It felt like I was drowning.

The acute edge of his knife was at the nape of my neck, shredding my shirt from neck to waist as he ripped through it. The air hit my damp skin, chilling me, and I shivered. I clawed at the dirt, desperate to get away, but he straddled my hips and kept his weight on me as his fingers scratched at the skin near my jeans.

Last night became vivid then; the adrenaline of seeing Negan brandishing his bowie knife and chasing me through the woods, how he caught me and pinned me down just like this. His idea had been one of a perverse joke, but this was real and savage, and yet again, I had no way to save myself. Like then, though, I wasn't going to give up. I would fight to the end, no matter how much damage they inflicted on me, I was going to try.

With a surge of anger, I reared back my elbow as hard as I could and connected with the side of Ben's face. He spewed out curses and flipped me onto my back. I hit him again - this time with my fist - the satisfying sound of my knuckles hitting his skin caused me to fight harder. When I went to swing once more, though, he caught my hand and twisted it to the side awkwardly. I yelped from the pain, and the back of his hand swiped across my face, sending me into a temporary darkness. When my vision was somewhat straight again, my hands were held in place above my head and my shirt in my mouth.

"I'm gonna make you fucking regret you ever wandered onto our property," Ben whispered menacingly in my ear, his knee opening the space between my legs as he ripped at my buckle. "This is what happens when you stick your fucking nose where it doesn't belong."

He raised a large fist in the air, and I closed my eyes in preparation for him to pummel me, but a sinisterly familiar whistle pierced the air, and my eyes sprang open again.

"What in the hell?" A man exclaimed as a series of imitating whistles ensued the first.

"Who's there?" Another one yelled.

I worked my shirt out of my mouth, spitting to get it out. I lifted my head, a demented grin splitting my sore cheeks and spoke.

"Negan."

Edited by lolasskicker.

Ooookaaaaaay. Was this chapter too much or was it okay?

I'm just going to go ahead and say that I'm excited for the next chapter. Negan's depraved, sadistic side is going to come out and I hope I write his actions well enough. Here's me corssing my fingers that his justice will satisfy you all next week!

Thanks to my reviewers who I can't respond to, and thank you to all my readers!