Safe haven | Rick Grimes

065. WAITING IS OUR PROBLEM

Chapter sixty five

"Waiting is our problem."

They eventually moved inside, the oppressive silence of the house broken only by the scraping sound of steel. Scarlett sat on the living room sofa, holding Judith tightly in her lap. Carl sat right beside her, his body stiff. Together, they were forced to watch Negan stand before the mirror, dragging a straight razor across his throat.

"Against the grain, kid," Negan told them, chuckling darkly as he wiped the blade. "Always against the grain." He wiped his face with a towel and tossed the razor onto the coffee table with a sharp clatter.

The nightmare shifted to the kitchen. Scarlett stood near the counter, her arms wrapped defensively around Judith, watching Negan completely take over her space. Carl stood at the island, his head down as he silently rolled out dough for dinner rolls. Negan stood at the stove, humming to himself as he stirred a large pot of boiling spaghetti and red sauce.

"Ah... damn, that smells good," Negan praised himself. He dipped a wooden spoon into the red sauce and licked it clean, smacking his lips. "Mm." He turned around slowly, leaning against the stove as his eyes locked onto Scarlett. "You want a taste?"

Scarlett's jaw clenched, her gaze icy. "Not like that."

Negan chuckled deeply, undeterred by her glare, and took another bite straight from the spoon. "Suit yourself. It's good," he said, turning back to the stove.

A short while later, the table was set for four. Scarlett sat at the head of the table, cradling Judith against her chest. Negan sat directly to her left—too close, his massive frame dominating the space—while Carl sat across from her. An empty plate sat at the remaining seat, waiting for Rick. Nobody moved. The steam rose from the bowls, the clock on the wall ticking loudly as they waited.

Finally, Negan let out a heavy sigh, leaning forward with his elbows on the table.

"I'm not waiting for your husband anymore," Negan announced, breaking the agonizing quiet. "I don't know where the hell he is. But..." He tilted his head, offering Scarlett a slick, knowing grin that made her stomach drop. "I'm sure since you're eating for two, you're getting hungry."

Carl's head snapped up, his lone eye widening in shock as he looked from Negan to Scarlett. Scarlett froze, her grip tightening on Judith as she met Carl's panicked gaze. Negan knew.

"Carl, pass the rolls. Please," Negan commanded smoothly, shattering their silent communication.

Carl swallowed hard, quickly grabbing the bowl of rolls and handing it over with a trembling hand. Negan took them, then picked up the heavy bowl of spaghetti, casually serving a massive portion onto each of their plates. Under his watchful eye, they were forced to pick up their forks and eat.

Having fed Judith, Scarlett scooped her up into her arms and carried her upstairs. Carl stood up from the table, following after her, his face twisted with regret.

"Mom, please, I just—" he started, his voice cracking.

Scarlett didn't even look back at him. "Not right now, Carl," she dismissed him coldly, her voice tight and unyielding.

She walked down the quiet hallway, gently laid Judith back into her crib, and paused for just a second to breathe. The relief of her daughter being safe was entirely overshadowed by the monster sitting in her dining room. Steeling herself, she turned and walked back downstairs.

When she reached the bottom of the steps, she noticed the front door was standing wide open. Walking closer to it, she froze. Spencer was standing on the walkway, engaged in a low conversation with Arat, one of Negan's highest-ranking soldiers.