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 voice carried through the street like a whip cracking against skin.
"You know what today is, Rick?" he called out, pacing slowly, boots crunching over broken glass. "Today's a banners day. Yes, it is." He grinned wide, spreading his arms as if welcoming them to a celebration. "I think this little arrangement we've got is gonna work out just fine."
He snatched the gun from Daryl's hand without warning, fingers curling around it with casual ownership. He rolled it in his palm like it was nothing more than a toy, inspecting it with mock reverence.
"Now," he said lightly, "let's see if you've been taking care of my guns."
The click was loud.
Final.
Negan cocked it back and swung the barrel toward Tessa.
She froze.
Every muscle locked at once, breath trapped painfully in her chest as if her body had forgotten how to function. The world narrowed to the dark circle of the barrel pointed straight at her face. For a heartbeat—just one—something reckless and exhausted flickered through her mind.
Do it, a small, broken part of her thought. Just pull the trigger and end it.
But Negan didn't.
At the last second, he swung the gun sideways and fired.
Glass exploded.
The window shattered outward in a violent spray, the sound sharp and deafening. Tessa flinched hard, a cry ripping from her throat before she could stop it. Shards rained down around them, sparkling briefly in the sunlight before clattering uselessly to the ground.
Negan inhaled deeply, smiling.
"Feels good," he said, almost dreamily. "Sounds good." He glanced down at Lucille. "Oh, I do believe Lucille's gettin' a bit jealous."
He turned back to Rick, grin widening.
"Well holy hell. You guys took out little Timmy and the dick brigade?" He shook his head in mock disappointment. "Rick, Rick, Rick... you naughty boy."
His eyes gleamed with anticipation.
"I am going to have some fun with this."
The tension splintered when Olivia's voice broke through the silence.
Pleading. Shaking.
Negan's smile collapsed instantly. Whatever humor had been there vanished, replaced by something sharp and cold. His tone hardened into steel.
"Alright," he muttered darkly, "we don't kill women unless they damn well earn it."
He stepped toward Olivia, slow and deliberate.
"But sweetheart," he continued, eyes boring into her, "three guns short? That's on you." He leaned closer. "And I don't like it when people screw up."
Olivia's knees buckled.
Negan bent down, voice low and dangerous enough to make Tessa's skin crawl.
"This is life and death," he said quietly. "Guns go missing... that's your ass."
Then he straightened, eyes snapping to Rick.
"Rick," he said pleasantly, "you better find them before I decorate the street with this lady's brains."
Tessa's chest tightened painfully.
A gun. Hidden. Her gun.
Negan couldn't find out.
She had to get to it first.
⸻
When Rick gathered everyone together for a meeting, Tessa sat stiffly beside Negan and Olivia, hands clenched tightly in her lap. Her mind raced, thoughts tumbling over one another as dread coiled tighter and tighter in her stomach.
She swallowed hard.
Then she forced herself to look up at him.
"Negan?" she said softly.
He tilted his head, amused, like a predator catching the faint sound of prey. "Mm?"
"I..." Her throat felt dry, raw. She cleared it. "I need to grab some things from my house. Some important things."
Her voice wavered despite her effort to steady it.
"Pictures," she added quickly. "I need to bring them back to the Sanctuary."
Negan arched a brow.
"Nope," he said easily. "You've got everything you need right at your new home." He waved a hand dismissively, like she'd asked for a glass of water.
Frustration churned in her gut. Sweat pricked at her palms as panic edged closer. She leaned forward, desperation overriding caution.
"Please," she said, voice cracking. "I'll do anything. Just let me grab a few sentimental things. I'll be quick."
Instant regret twisted deep in her stomach, but she didn't pull back.
"Alright, doll," Negan said finally, grinning wide. "You can go. But tonight?" His eyes darkened. "You and me. Dinner. In my room."
"Don't be late."
Dinner.
The word made her stomach turn violently. Of all the things she could endure, this was the one that terrified her most.
But she forced the words out.
"I can do that."
As she rose, so did he.
His hand shot out, gripping her arm tight enough to hurt. She froze, pulse pounding wildly beneath his fingers. He leaned in close, breath brushing her ear.
"Just remember," he murmured, voice low and intimate, "don't do anything stupid."
Before she could react, his lips pressed against her forehead.
The contact sent a jolt through her chest—wrong, sickening, yet warm enough to confuse her body into betrayal. She recoiled instantly, tearing herself free from his grip. She shoved the sensation down hard, burying it deep where it couldn't poison her thoughts.
