Chapter 52
In my new room, I waited, pacing back and forth in the large, open space. The heels on my feet clacked loudly on the bare floor but softened upon walking along one of the many decorative rugs. Sherry had already helped me tidy up the room earlier and that left me with nothing to keep myself occupied while I bided my time until Negan came knocking. So, I continued my cycle, anticipating the sharp clatter with one footstep and listening for it to disappear with the other. It kept me busy and distracted, abating the nervous energy that ran through my fidgety limbs.
I scanned the room incessantly and found it all too surreal. After being here for so long, I never thought I would wind up as one of Negan's wives; putting on makeup, fixing my hair, wearing a tiny, black fucking dress and heels just to look good for him. It was one of the last things I ever thought I would do, but as the bitch called fate would have it, here I was. And I had no idea where Daryl was at or what he was doing; if he was okay emotionally and physically. I knew he had to be suffering because of me and I hated myself for that, but I had gone with my instincts in the heat of the moment and they weren't always the best. I could only pray that Negan had gone easy on him and that Daryl hadn't made my already fucked decision any worse by resisting.
Disturbed, I stopped in front of the wide, paned window. The sun was already gone and the moon was just beginning to rise above the kaleidoscopic trees. I wrapped my arms around my chest, running my hands from my shoulders to my elbows as I imagined the cool air outside. In a few hours time, I was supposed to be in a truck with a load of strangers marked for my freedom, yet I would miss it. The opportunity to leave this place for good was growing fainter by the second. Pretty soon, fall would hit full force and the days would grow even shorter, colder. While that was good in the sense the walkers would slow down, it made surviving outside for multiple days on end harder, and it would be damn near impossible by the time winter arrived.
But I asked myself what I would rather face: continued torment under Negan as his wife with Daryl's safety in constantly jeopardy or a chance at freedom with death looming around every corner and an enraged Negan at our backs. While the former provided some sense of security, it was circumstantial and illusory. It could change with the blink of an eye or the swing of a bat. And if I ever did anything to screw up, I feared Negan would use the side of Daryl's face as my punishment.
I took in a deep breath, trying vainly to steady my nerves as the image of a glowing iron searing Daryl's handsome cheek plagued me. I shuddered and dug my nails into my biceps as I started to pace again, thinking of anything else but that. When three deliberate knocks rapped on my door, I froze and my mind cleared completely, but in a second I was seeded with a deep foreboding much more intense than anything I'd felt all evening. He was here.
Three more booming knocks splintered the silence, and I broke from the alarmed stupor to stumble forward, reaching a shaking hand for the doorknob.
Negan leaned against the doorframe, his broad form practically expanding across the length of it. His smile was easy, bemused, and it surprisingly relaxed me a fraction, but anxiety was still in control, hindering my thinking.
"Hey, beautiful. You gonna let me in?" Negan asked softly, his grin expanding.
"Uh, ye-yeah," I stammered, and hastily nodded. I stepped back, opening the door wide to allow him in.
He pushed off the frame, watching me closely as he moved into the room. After the door was shut, I took a tiny moment to collect myself before turning around to face him, my hands still on the knob behind my back. Negan laughed.
"Goddamn. Don't look too fucking thrilled to see me, sweetheart. What's got you so wound up?" He went to embrace me but I sidestepped him nervously, grabbing the back of a plush lounge chair to steady myself. The smile on his face intensified, but I had obviously offended him.
"I'm sorry." I apologized, turning red. "I'm very…nervous."
"Clearly," he chuckled and approached me again, gently. He reached out a hand, his fingers grazing the skin on my shoulder, testing my reaction, before setting the full weight of it on me. He squeezed lightly, reassuringly. "Don't be nervous. It's just me. You know me."
Yeah, that's the fucking problem, I thought, but I nodded instead and tried to plaster on a smile but my lips wouldn't move.
He gazed around the room, turning to look over every corner. "Wowie! Nice job cleaning this shit hole up."
"It wasn't that bad," I offered, relieved at the change of subject, but the truth was that it had been pretty trashed.
It was apparent Amber had been struggling for some time which made me feel sorrier for her, but I also felt it was in her best interest that Negan had let her go. I understood she was upset at losing her secured role, but the numerous empty wine and liquor bottles had been a tale tell sign of a dependency forming. With each bottle I picked up, I felt her sadness, and I hoped that with each one I tossed away she was able to find solace in her new place in the Sanctuary as an ex-wife; possibly with Mark.
"Right." Negan rolled his eyes but it seemed playful. His hand slid from me to unzip his jacket. "Was there anything left over or did the wino suck every bottle she had in here dry?"
"There were a few." I pointed to the kitchen counter opposite the room. "Some rum and a couple of bottles of merlot."
"Damn, no whiskey?" Negan asked as the leather jacket slipped from his arms, and I looked away, unamused.
"I'll open the merlot." I walked past him to the small kitchen and searched for a bottle opener.
"Please do. You need something to take that fucking edge off."
Ignoring him, I found the corkscrew in a drawer and jammed it on the bottle, slamming the drawer shut with my hip and twisting the screw down forcefully. I knew what I needed to take the fucking edge off and it involved more than a glass of wine. I might end up chugging the whole damn thing if I couldn't get a hold of myself, but as I mashed down on the screw and ripped the cork out of the bottle, I felt a tiny bit better.
As I popped the cork off of the opener, I felt Negan move up behind me, the soft cotton of his shirt grazing my back. He moved my hair to the side and over my shoulder, leaving the bare parts of me exposed. I stiffened as he raised his left arm above my head to open a cabinet, and as he leaned into me to reach for two glasses on the top shelf, I braced myself against the counter, the jutted corkscrew tight between my fingers.
"Just tryin' to help," he said cheekily and placed the crystal glasses before me.
"Thanks," I muttered and abandoned the corkscrew to grab the wine bottle, thinking he'd leave me alone long enough to pour us each a glass.
He took hold of it quickly and secured it in a drawer. I briefly closed my eyes, feeling a bit dumb for having been so apparent, and worry started to dig at me when he remained at my back. But I chose to pretend he wasn't there, just like Sherry had told me to, and lifted the bottle to begin pouring. Unexpectedly, a strong hand shot out to encircle my own, and I hissed from the tender pain in my knuckles as he slammed the bottle back down with a thud, red wine sloshing out of the open neck to stain our skin.
I felt his fingers slowly run up my side, the pressure light against the fabric of my dress. They curved around my bare shoulder blade and ascended to the top of my shoulder, a trail of prickled flesh left in their wake, and I suppressed a shiver. He kneaded my tense muscles with firm, considerate attention, trying to relax me, but the discomfort that continued to pulse in my restrained extremity hindered any diversion I might have experienced.
"Negan?" His name was a wondering murmur from my lips, and I felt scared.
"What are you?" His voice was low and close to my ear. I knitted my brows in confusion.
"I-" I thought for a second, trying to come up with the answer he clearly wanted. "I'm yours. I'm your wife."
"Yes, you will be my wife," he corrected. "You haven't quite reached that status yet. We've still got a few steps to take before you get to that point, and I have to admit that your left ring finger is looking pretty bare. I need to amend that before I have the pleasure of calling you missus."
"Okay." I swallowed, knowing it would take more than that to be considered his wife.
"Don't be afraid of me." His tone had changed. It almost sounded pleading as he unclasped his hand from mine and brought my sore appendage to his mouth, kissing it tenderly.
"I'm trying, but it's hard for me," I admitted, hoping the truth would make him consider my new place and how it made me feel more carefully.
He chuckled in my ear, all seriousness gone. "It ain't for me yet, but I'm getting there."
I threw him a quick glare, finally meeting his gaze, and he looked nothing but joyful as he watched me struggle to keep my mouth shut.
"I'm fucking with you." He grinned coyly and eyed my face. "Maybe not in the way I want, but this is still fun nonetheless."
"You're making it extremely difficult to tolerate you right now."
Welp, there goes the filter, I scolded myself, but Negan seemed to like my retort.
"Oh, sweetheart, I can make so many other aspects of your life highly more difficult, but right now, I'm just enjoying the fact that your face is clearly telling me that you'd rather shove a fucking corkscrew in my throat than be with me but I'm going to change your mind."
"Really? I didn't think I was that transparent," I bit out sarcastically. "Good luck, anyway."
The words had barely rolled off my tongue when Negan whipped me around to face him and shoved me against the counter with his hands on my waist, his body pressed onto mine. I placed my hands behind me as my elbow sent one of the wine glasses clattering on the countertop and it barely avoided rolling over the edge. I blinked up at him, shocked by the sudden outburst, and fear hijacked the irritation I'd felt over his tasteless remarks.
He breathed in deeply, nestling his face close to mine, and his lips found the line of my jaw.
"I don't want to hurt you." His breath ghosted down my neck and the shiver I'd been holding back ran through me.
"But you will if you have to," I finished for him.
He straightened slightly, leaning back so that his face hovered over mine, and his staid, tawny eyes locked me in place.
"I'm not going to beguile you into a false sense of security. I believe it's pretty clear what limitations you have here, and I won't patronize you by explaining what I mean because I know you're fucking smarter than that." His eyes studied mine, his gaze seeming to reach deep down into me and pull out whatever he found. "You propositioned me and I accepted. Like any other man, I want to be with my wife…but I won't make you, and I certainly won't hurt you if you don't want it. However," he paused briefly, setting me up to follow what he would say next, "I will not hesitate to do whatever I deem necessary if you betray me. And that can range from dismissing you as one of my wives to making you regret you became one."
I was shaking, partly from anger and the other from desperation. He just asserted everything I already knew and was afraid of.
"I asked you if you were going to change your mind and you said no. You said Daryl wouldn't become a problem either, but I sense he is a giant fucking reason you're holding yourself back. Do I really fucking need to sit you down and talk through all of this shit with you?"
"No." My answer was quick and assertive. "I wasn't asking if you would hurt me, I was commenting that you would should you have to, or…"
"Wanted to?" He offered, one eyebrow rising.
I nodded. "Yes."
He laughed lightly and repeated, "I don't want to hurt you, Everly. I never wanted to hurt you."
"But you have," I countered.
"And I will again." He smirked and gazed down between us as his hands tightened on my body to pull me closer. "Convince me that I won't need to."
He tilted his head toward mine in a similar fashion from our earlier kiss, leaving the space open for me to close. He was providing me with a choice; one that would be all too telling of how willing I was going to be throughout the progression of our newfound relationship. I could choose to be stubborn, make my love for Daryl difficult to follow through on my wifely duties, or I could suck it up and do what needed to be done like his five other wives. One option was much better than the other yet wrong in every aspect of self-respect and honesty. But clearly I had to decide which one Negan valued more: my truth or my self-preservation.
I kissed him, moving my aching hand to his firm bicep to show some semblance of enthusiasm. He leaned into me and let wandering hands travel up my back, one snaking into my loose hair to cradle the back of my head and hold me close. His tongue swiped against my lips and I yielded to him, discouraged from refusing lest he were to take any more offense. His motions were smooth and fluid, and the kiss itself was not at all as unpleasant or selfish as I imagined it might be. I found it easy to lose myself, to pretend I was someone else in a different time and in a different place. And I tried futilely not to think of Daryl. I didn't want him to be a part of this moment for fear that when I was finally with him again I would think about this kiss; about being with Negan.
As our touch became more heated, his beard scratched my lips and skin, not unlike the way Daryl's would do, and I whimpered, feeling something akin to relinquished passion. The hand on my back journeyed to the underside of my chest, not quite reaching the delicate bust above as he caressed the skin over my ribs, but when his fingers eventually brushed my breast and began to curl around me I jerked.
Negan broke away and fixed me with a hooded stare. His brow rested against my own as he continued to hold me to him, and his hands remained in the same spots as I took deep breaths to calm my frenzied nerves. The intent that sobered his features began to melt away as his cheeks rose with a wicked smirk.
"That was real fucking nice," he licked his lips and cleared his throat, "but we can continue this later. Today was chock full of bullshit, and while I'd love to unwind by burying myself inside of you, I know you're not ready for it."
Sluggishly, he pulled away and cool air claimed the warmth that he had created. It was refreshing, intense, and I felt the flush in my cheeks and chest heighten. He flashed an impish wink and picked up the tipped glass from the counter to set it upright. He grabbed the wine bottle over my shoulder and stepped next to me, pouring us each a generous amount.
"Relax," he said as he passed me a glass and I took it from him gratefully. "I want more nights like this with you but our marriage has to be mutual. I don't enjoy feeling like you're forcing yourself into this."
Well, what the fuck do you think this is? I hastily took a sip of my wine to hide my amazement.
"Remember," he brushed my hair back from my face, "I didn't make you do this. You chose it. Today could have ended any other way, but this is what you picked."
"I understand," I whispered through swollen lips and blushed again. I took another sip.
"When you're ready let me know, but don't keep me waiting too long." The glass rose to his mouth and he took a hefty drink. "I'm already growing impatient."
I closed my eyes as they started to roll. "Got it."
"Good girl." He kissed my temple, and I couldn't tell if the shivers that prickled up my spine were from dread or submission.
Dwight slowed the truck when he saw the ostentatious golden S on the Somerset gates, relieved they were finally here. The wrought iron door swung inward upon their approach and his foot twitched as it hit the accelerator. The van lurched forward as the gravel underneath crunched from the pressure and the dim headlights lit the dusty, windy path as they bumped up to the first set of cottages.
He and his men had driven all day with little breaks, wanting to arrive here as soon as possible so that they could head back home at the earliest convenience. It was Dwight's mission to speak with Kai alone about his conversation with Everly and gauge how full of shit he was. He didn't really have a plan if things here went south, but the men he had brought along were ones he trusted and he was confident their response time was rapid.
The van smoothed out once the tires hit the concrete drive that led up to the hotel. Most of the windows were blacked out, but Dwight saw some lights on in the front hall and several forms silhouetted at the entrance.
"We get in, we get out," Dwight reminded his men through the CB radio they shared. "I talk with Kai, you guys drop off the hostages. Guard the van and truck while I'm gone. If I'm longer than thirty minutes, leave."
"Roger that, D," Ashby's deep voice responded, and Dwight caught the nod from his passenger, Trevor.
"Don't let that juggernaut fuck with you. You know he's got some shit up his sleeve," Trevor advised.
"That fact is already fucking with me," Dwight confessed and pulled to a stop by the front doors. "He better be on our side."
"Yeah, right," Trevor mumbled as both men exited their vehicle.
"Dwight! Good to see ya, buddy!" Kai greeted Negan's lieutenant with a hand shake and hug.
"Kai. Good to see you, too."
"You got my new recruits for me? I've been bouncin' in my fuckin' boots all damn week waitin' for 'em." Kai rubbed his hands together.
"Yeah, man. Got them back there." Dwight flicked his thumb back at the van and signaled for his men to open the doors.
One by one, the prisoners were hustled out and made to form a line in front of Kai and his soldiers. The Somerset leader walked up the row of bodies, looking each person up and down, and he gave a nod of approval once he neared the end.
"They'll do. Some of 'em will need a bit of work, but I ain't complainin' none." Kai stopped in front of a particularly lovely brunette and gave her a large smile. "How you doin', gorgeous?"
Her dark eyes glared at him with disgust, and Dwight cleared his throat as he came up to the bulky man's side.
"You mind if we speak before we head out?"
"What?" Kai looked down at him, distracted. "Oh, right! Yes… Let's talk."
Dwight turned to his men and with a swift incline of his head they pressed the men and women forward for Kai's soldiers to handle. Kai gave the pretty woman a parting glance and a wink before leading his guest inside the hotel to his office.
"What would ya like to discuss, D-man?" Kai reclined in his chair and kicked his feet up on his desk, relaxing.
"I'm sure you have some idea," the scarred lieutenant began.
"Probably," Kai interrupted with a large grin on his face. "This about that little redhead Negan's got? That saucy broad?"
"Yes." Dwight clenched his jaw but his irritation didn't show through his voice.
"Whew, she was smokin'. I had half a mind to try her out, but I had a feelin' the boss was workin' up to somethin' with that one."
"She's his wife now," Dwight affirmed.
"No kiddin'? Smart on her part, sleepin' with the enemy and all." He thought for a second. "You think that little number you just brought in would get with me?"
Kai flicked his feet back and forth contentedly while Dwight shifted in his chair, uncomfortable. It seemed the Somerset leader had no troubles with his life the way it was now, so Dwight had a hard go of understanding why he would even risk losing it.
He shook his head and shrugged. "Probably, but I don't care about that. You already mentioned Everly, and you must realize she told me what happened between you two."
"Yeah, and what about it?" Kai dropped his feet, but remained slouching in his chair.
"Don't you think it's a bit of a low blow to harass young women into telling you secrets?"
Kai scoffed in amusement and chuckled. "Well, let's see that hair on your chest, Dwighty boy. You finally grow ya dick back?"
"Cut the shit, Kai." Dwight demanded, his face stone. "I know what you're trying to pull and I'll admit you chose the right one to prey on, but you've got to be straight with me. Are you serious about helping us or not?"
"Let me answer your fuckin' question with one of my own." Kai pointed at him. "You still alive, ain't ya?"
"So, I can assume that's a yes?"
"If Everly, or whatever the fuck her name is, follows through on our deal then yes, I will fucking help you." The last five words were enunciated condescendingly as Kai cut Dwight with an annoyed glance. "You fuckin' think I casually discuss overthrowing our leader with a complete stranger to get my rocks off?"
"It's wouldn't exactly call it a shock if you did, but I expect you would want something more tangible out of it."
"Like her cunt? Is that what you're sayin'?" Kai sat forward and placed his elbows on the arms of his chair, the same sore look on his face. "You really fuckin' think that low of me?"
Dwight shrugged because the answer was obvious and that was exactly what he was implying.
"If the shoes fits, but Everly didn't divulge too many details about her run in with you," Dwight stared straight at him. "So, that leads me to believe you're either serious about this or I missed some parts of the story."
"I didn't blackmail her into fucking me, ya dick."
"Okay, then I need you to show me that you're with us before we can move forward. Are you willing to do that?"
Kai screwed up his face and brought a hand to his chin. "Gee, I don't know, Dwight. See, the person who I told I would help isn't here and you say she's Negan's wife now. That leads me to believe that some shit didn't go according to plan or you're grasping for fuckin' straws. If I help you now, who's to say that I don't screw shit up for myself?"
"And that's who it's been about this whole time."
"Of fuckin' course it has!" Kai boomed, raising his arms in the air. "You think I give two flyin' fucks about any of you dimwits?"
"No, none of that is fucking news, but I'm pissed that you've involved yourself in this, demanding something that none of us can even fucking give you." Dwight leaned forward as his own voice raised.
Kai laughed in disbelief. "Oh, boy, ya sure do talk a lot of shit for such a small ass bitch. Look at you, mister save-the-fucking-world. Look at your fucked as hell face. You ain't gonna sit there and tell me I'm an asshole for thinkin' of myself. That's all anybody can do with dead shitbags infesting the world, but I'm apparently the only one who's got the nuts to admit it."
"This isn't just about me," Dwight bit out.
"Oh, fuck you!" Kai sat back and threw a hand out at him. "All you can do is deflect because you know it's fuckin' true."
"Our motives are completely different." Dwight leaned on the edge of his chair, his fingertips tapping angrily on Kai's desk. "You want what's best for you and we want what's best for ourselves. You're right. It is about us, but that's the fucking point. We're doing it to make a better life for one another, not just for personal gain."
"And so what? That makes me the bad guy in all of this? I thought we had a common goal here, or are you not into the idea of teamin' up anymore?"
"I know you will play this situation any way that benefits you, Kai. You are as easy to see through as fucking glass, and I'm kicking myself because I do want your help." Dwight ran a hand through his hair and sat back, taking a moment to collect himself. "I want you on our side, but you're hard to trust."
"Why?" Kai asked genuinely, offended.
"Because you're just like him: sneaky, self-serving, and a liar. You'll play anyone to get what you want and when you've got it, you throw them away if they aren't already dead."
Kai snickered. "You don't fuckin' know me."
"I know enough," Dwight sighed, "but I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt. Prove me wrong, Kai, because if you fuck this up, I will drag you down with all of us."
The robust man considered the slighter one who sat across from him. He was pissed off and wanted nothing more than to break the half-burned asshole's jaw, but he'd wanted to see this deal through. He knew he could save his own ass if Negan became privy to his involvement, and it didn't hurt that Kai was so out of the way that his name might never come up. And he had no qualms with how this whole war might play out. He was set either way, but this adventure would be a lot of fun; mostly if he got what he wanted out of it.
"I'm going to need some reassurance from you before I agree to anything."
"Like what?" Dwight rolled his eyes.
"Like what I've already fuckin' asked for." Kai eyed him for a long moment. "When Negan is gone, I take his place. Till then, I will remain neutral, but I'll give your little allies weapons and ammo. Other than that, I don't want my name in your mouth or anyone else's."
"Of course." Dwight shook his head. "And if Negan calls on you?"
"Then I'll answer," Kai answered honestly. "But I'll let my people choose who they fight for."
"How fucking dignified of you."
"I think so," Kai shrugged and reached a solid hand across his desk, offering his loyalty. "You agree to those terms?"
"I want some of the weapons tonight."
"Fine," Kai huffed, his hand still outstretched. Hesitantly, Dwight took it. "Tell me what else ya need, scarecrow man. I ain't got all fuckin' night."
"Neither do we," Dwight answered, and began to detail exactly what he had planned for the upcoming war.
To be edited at a later date. As life has a funny way of kicking us in the balls/tender lady bits when we least expect it, my beta may not be able to edit all of my chapters quickly enough to have them done by the time I need them due to personal circumstances. If you start seeing a lot of mistakes, that's why, and I do apologize in advance.
How was the premiere last night? I've decided not to watch it until I write all my battle scenes so I have fresh and original ideas. (Well, fresh enough considering I have read the comics.) I just know I'm gonna eventually watch the show and be like, "Why the fuck didn't I think of that!?" Happened quite often last season...
Thanks to my guest reviewers, BlueMoon, and urmessismine ("Oh, no!" indeed! Shit's getting real!). Also, the last chapter has been edited if you would like to go back and reread it without all of the glaring mistakes.