Chapter 8

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Negan is absolutely livid. I don't know whether to focus on him or the barbed weapon being held in a death grip as he attempts to compose his anger.

My knees are curled into my chest as I attempt to make myself as small as possible. I wish I could disappear from view, anything to get out of this situation.

Negan continues to linger at the broken doorway, his burning stare not leaving me. I tuck my head between my knees, too terrified to make eye contact with him.

My inner panic increases as the shuffling of footsteps alerts me of his movement, the unmistaken thud of each heavy step seemed to echo through the room. The sound ceases and I can sense his towering presence over me. His shadow emphasized his anger as if played over my cowering form.

An eerie silence falls, the only audible sounds being my low whimpers and Negan's unsteady breathing. The tension in the room mounts as I wait for him to speak.

"Look at me," he growls through clenched teeth.

I slowly ease my head up. My eyes lingering below his nose as a way of avoiding eye contact.

A yelp leaves me as his thick fingers intertwine in my hair, forcing me to comply to his demand. My hands grab his wrist trying to ease the pain stinging my scalp. I've never seen a human-being engulfed in anger of this magnitude.

I don't try to fight out of his hold out of fear of pissing him off even more.

"You wanna explain to me what the fuck you were thinking, smashing my shit like that?"

I'm at a loss for words. Contemplating between telling him that his own man is lying to his face or to just accept my punishment and pray that it's over with quickly…. What if he doesn't believe me and that only fuels his rage even more? I go for it anyway.

"I didn't do it, I swear to God! He's lying to you!"

His grip tightens, causing my scalp to burn in excruciating pain.

"You gotta be shitting me! One of my own god damn men destroyed five bottles of my best shit? Then tries to pin it on you?"

"H-he was p-pissed at you, said y-you docked his p-pay," I manage to say in-between sobs. "K-knew you w-would blame m-me…"

Negan increases the pressure until it feels that every hair follicle is about to be torn from my scalp. His face is emotionless as he watches me sob and thrash against him in agony.

"If you're fucking lying to me, that pretty little face of yours will never look the same again," he lowly whispers the threat.

There is instant relief as my hair is released from his vice. I'm quick to crawl away from him, curling myself into a ball between his bed frame and nightstand as if they could offer any protection for me.

Negan doesn't utter another word as he storms out of the room, not even bothering to attempt to shut the half-broken door.

"Boss?" I hear the henchman ask in the other room.

"Not fucking now! Keep her restrained, and stay away from her," Negan yells as I hear his stomps descending the stairs to the main floor.

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