About thirty minutes later, Michonne and Rick are in fresh clothes, lying in each other's arms on her bed.

For a long while, they don't speak, not needing to.

Michonne feels nothing but safety in his arms.

She regretted sending him away the moment he left. She's happy to have him back. Close.

Whenever Rick is here, his empathy and reverence for her feel like a very potent drug washing over her, instantly relaxing her.

And his warmth, never too far away. And his eyes on her.

She has only ever felt this way about a man once before. Like she would do anything.

She is as certain of that as she is that Rick will do anything she asks.

Intoxicating. Addictive. Dangerous. Especially in the hands of someone like her.

"Rick is willing to risk it all for you," Morgan told her earlier today. "If I'm gonna help you . . . I'd better see his faith in you rewarded."

"Rick?" she whispers, turning slightly in her curved position lying against him.

"I'm here," Rick inhales her scent, cradling her in his arms.

He senses something hesitant in her low voice. He gives her a slight squeeze, planting a comforting kiss on her warm shoulder. He decides to let her take her time. He isn't going anywhere. He wants to know everything about her that she's willing to share. He'll be patient. She hasn't explained exactly what hit her so hard before she tried to send him away. He doesn't exactly need her to. He'll listen if she decides to, but just thinking about the imagined details already flickering through his mind makes him boil inside. It's bad enough that Andre was robbed of a father and Michonne feels like she will never be safe again, it's everything Rick suspects happened to her over the years she was trapped. Negan Wolfe has to die.

She sighs hard. "I care about you . . . a lot. . . and that's dangerous."

Rick frowns but says nothing. He listens carefully, silently willing her to elaborate.

Michonne bites her lip as her own rage begins to race through her. "The things I had to do to protect my baby . . . I'll always have to live with the consequences. But you don't. It's not too late to walk away. Fuck whatever Carol says."

Rick loosens his grip on her long enough to sit up and look down at her in the warm lamplight. She is breathtaking, even with her worried, serious expression and her plush bottom lip clamped between her teeth. Unable to help himself, he leans in, rubbing her stomach gently, and kisses her until she sighs, releasing her lip for him to cover with his. Michonne is momentarily distracted, running her fingers through his hair, wishing she wasn't on her period right now. Focus, Michonne, and tell him the truth before it is too late. With gargantuan effort, she pushes against him, forcing his lips to let go of hers. He inhales and exhales slowly, allowing her to put distance enough between them so she can look up into his eyes. His lashes dropping low over his deep blues, Rick tilts his head at her. "Negan's people don't scare me. "

Michonne reaches up to cradle his face in her slender hands. She is falling hard for this man. He is brave, and she appreciates his presence – craves it, covets it, cannot seem to get enough of it – but he has no idea what he's getting himself into. He may not be afraid to die, but she doesn't want him to. She caresses his fuzzy chin with her thumbs, making up her mind to go with her gut and trust him the way he has trusted her – bringing her into his inner circle, putting his life and reputation on the line for her. It means a lot to her. The least she can do is give him the chance to save himself from all this.

"I was afraid you wouldn't come back," Michonne confesses, "but as long as you're here, with me, you're in danger. Whether you're afraid of it or not. I don't want to lose you . . . but you should walk away."

Rick reaches up with his free hand to caress her collarbone and chin. They stare at each other, transfixed by one another. She can see it in his eyes. It's too late. There is no going back for him. He lets her figure it out without saying as much, but what he does say forces her resolve to implode and flow out of her like water from a breached dam.

"I'm not goin' anywhere without you . . . " his eyes drop to her lips, his voice lowering to a whisper, "I'm crazy about you, Michonne. I'll die before I let anythin' hurt you, understand?"

All she can do is nod, helpless against the intensity of his confession. They kiss hotly for a few breathless moments, holding each other, letting go of any last vestige of restraint they have left. When they pull apart, Rick continues to gaze down at her, making her stay still in his arms.

"You want me to kill 'im?"

Rick's low, serious words echo in the quiet room, driving a shiver of excitement and dread through her. Michonne's heart starts to thump in her chest. She's tingling from head to toe as he waits patiently for her answer, holding her close. She wants to say yes so badly . . . but she can't. Not yet.

Michonne takes hold of his face again, kisses his lips, and asks him to "Follow me?"

Rick allows her to slip from his arms and stands up from the bed in sync with her. She reaches out for his hand. He gives it to her, not taking his eyes off hers. Michonne leads Rick out of the room, all the way downstairs, and into the garage.

Rick and Michonne stand facing each other in her cool garage next to her vintage, black Camaro.

She uncovers it and lets the tarp fall away at her feet. Taking a deep breath, Michonne steps over the tarp and kneels, reaching her hand under to feel around beneath the trunk. Rick watches her locate and reveal a hidden key. She stands upright again and unlocks the trunk. He steps closer, tearing his eyes from hers to look down into the trunk as she opens it. It looks like a normal, empty trunk . . . until Michonne removes the bottom baseboard to reveal a hidden compartment stacked to the brim with cash. Rick stares down at it, thinking . . . putting the pieces together.

This is no small fortune. This is big trouble.

"Before I left Negan," Michonne begins, clutching the key in her fist, "I took ten million dollars. I had help. This really smart guy, Eugene. He started working for Negan undercover . . . " she watches him for his reaction, ". . . he was Carol's partner."

Rick steps away from the trunk, his gaze rising to hers again, pinning her to the spot. He waits, watching her try to hide her internal struggle from him. Tell him the truth, Eva her inner voice pushes her; the voice of the woman she used to be. The one willing to sacrifice anyone so she could snatch her freedom back. She would be doing the same to Rick, to say yes to him now. He has to know the real her if he's going to be her ride or die. It's that simple. Except it isn't. He used to be a cop. He could still walk away. That scares her more than it should, but she ignores the feeling.

"Eugene took the fall for me. He made it look like he stole the money and hid it somewhere Negan will never find it," she swallows down her guilt, her nails digging into her palm. "He's dead now. Negan killed him. Carol hid my involvement."

She looks down at the trunk full of money. Blood money. Brief, dark memories float through her mind like fire smoke. Eugene trusted Carol with his life, just like Michonne does. Now he's gone. In some small way, Michonne has been sequestering herself in domestic purgatory to punish herself for willingly sacrificing his life for the lives of her son and herself. The former Mrs. Wolfe lifts her watery gaze back up to Rick's.

"And that's the whole truth. I let a man die so I could escape with millions, hoping one day my son and I can live."

Rick steps toward her, but she takes a step back. He sighs, leaning back patiently. She needs to say this.

"I don't regret what I did, Rick. I want nothing more than to see that son-of-a-bitch die for what he did to me. But you need to know – if you get yourself mixed up with me, this is what you're getting mixed up in."

She points defiantly at the open trunk full of blood money. Her large, dark eyes drill up into his, her voice deepening with the severity of her words. Rick exhales hard and slow. He closes the distance, reaching out and pulling her closer before she can get away this time, gripping her tightly against him.

"Ask me . . . "

She shivers against his broad chest and sturdy body, staring up at him as if he is the moon about to eclipse her sun. In his eyes, she feels the strange merging of her two selves – Eva the bad seed, and Michonne the fiercely protective mother. At last, she has met her match.

"Kill him for me, Rick."

"Alright."

He kissed her fiercely.