In a world ruled by fear, survival comes with a price.
When her brother's attempt to overthrow the Saviors fails, Tessa finds herself under Negan's watchful eye-protected, controlled, and dangerously close to the man she should hate. As violence, po...
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Negan's arm locked around Tessa's waist like a steel band, his grip firm and possessive as he dragged her along at his swaggering pace. She had to shorten her steps just to keep up, heels scraping against pavement she barely registered. Daryl trailed behind them, silent and simmering, every muscle in his body coiled tight with barely restrained violence. Rick walked stiffly ahead, jaw clenched so hard it looked painful, leading Negan through Alexandria for the so-called "tour."
When Negan finally released her, it was only long enough to grab a drink from a cooler.
The second the pressure vanished, Tessa shifted instinctively closer to Rick—just inches, barely noticeable to anyone else—but even that small distance felt like a gasp of air after being held underwater too long. Her body leaned toward him without permission, craving the familiar steadiness of her brother's presence.
Tears burned behind her eyes.
All she wanted was to wrap her arms around him, bury her face in his chest, breathe him in. Tell him how much she missed him. How much she needed him. How terrified she was.
How much she—
Negan's eyes never left her.
A Savior handed him a video camera, and his grin widened into something wicked and predatory.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here? Got my fingers crossed for a little freaky-deaky."
His gaze slid to Tessa as he licked his teeth, slow and deliberate.
Her skin crawled.
He started flipping through the old Alexandria interviews, Rick's recorded voice filling the air. Negan cackled, shaking the camera like it was a toy.
"Is that you, Rick? Underneath all that man-bush?"
He turned the screen toward her. Rick's humiliation burned so visibly it made her chest ache.
"Shit, I would've thought twice before messin' with that guy. But this version?"
He jabbed a thumb toward the present Rick.
"This ain't him anymore. Nope."
Tessa rolled her eyes.
It was instinctive. Reflex.
Negan saw it instantly.
His grin sharpened as he handed the camera off to a Savior, then turned slowly toward her. The space between them vanished in a few unhurried steps.
Before she could move back, his hand snapped to her chin—fingers digging in, grip brutal as he forced her to look at him.
"Don't touch me," she hissed, venom threading her voice.
"Oh, but I am touching you," he murmured, leaning in close enough that she could smell the alcohol on his breath. "Don't fuckin' test me, darlin'. You want me to remind you how I make a point?"
Her pulse thundered so loudly she was sure he could hear it.
Every instinct screamed to claw his face open—to fight—but survival won.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"Atta girl."
He released her chin only to lace his fingers through hers, gripping her hand like a shackle, like ownership.
Negan turned back to Rick, his voice booming with mock concern. "So tell me, Rick... whatever happened to that sick girl?"
Rick's fists tightened around Lucille's handle, knuckles bleaching white.
"Careful," Negan sang. "Watch how you're lookin' at me, Rick."
Tessa tuned out the rest of his words. His voice faded into a dull buzz, like a fly that refused to die.
She looked at Rick instead.
He stood there stone-faced but seething, chest rising and falling too fast. His eyes were dark, unreadable—but when they met hers, something cracked.
She gave a tiny shake of her head.
Not now. Please.
A quiet voice cut through the tension.
"Care to pay your respects?"
Negan spun, startled—
Then burst into laughter.
"Holy crap. You are creepy as shit! Sneakin' up on me in that collar with that freaky-ass smile."
The moment Negan turned, Tessa ripped her hand free.
She faced Gabriel, her voice trembling despite her effort to steady it. "She... she didn't make it?"
The answer hit her like a punch to the ribs.
Another death. Another weight. Another person she hadn't been able to save.
Negan's voice filled the silence like poison.
"Damn tragedy, that's what it is. Really sucks for ya."
He tapped Lucille against his boot, the sound dull and final. "Now lesson number one—that one is on me. Had to happen."
He pointed at Daryl, his grin widening.
"Lesson number two? That one didn't need to happen. But ol' Daryl here forced my hand. Put her right on her back."
Tessa knelt, her knees sinking into the dirt as she placed a flower on Maggie's grave. Grief ripped through her chest, raw and violent, memories she'd tried to bury clawing their way back up.
Glenn's smile. Maggie's laughter. The future that had been stolen.
Negan's hand curled around her lower back, hauling her upright without warning.
"Damn shame," he murmured near her ear. "Was thinkin' about askin' her to come back with me. But hey..."
He squeezed her back possessively, fingers digging in. "I got lucky with this one instead."
His grin slashed toward Rick.
"Oh, I know what you're thinkin'. How could she ever want me—the guy who bashed her husband's head in?"
Tessa's throat burned with fury. "You are such a—"
A gunshot cracked through the air.
Negan's grin dropped instantly.
His hand seized her waist, dragging her with him as he strode toward the sound, boots pounding against the pavement—violence already coiled and ready.
