Destined to Lose: The 5th book

Chapter 11: Past Pain

There's a knock on the door the next morning and I yell at whoever it is to piss off. The handle jingles with a key in it and I stand up, waiting for whoever it is. Negan walks inside, leather jacket on and bat in tow with a large grin on his face, "now I think we both said some shit yesterday we didn't mean. I'm here to apologize for my part in our pesky disagreement."

"Pesky disagreement?" I retort back his choice of words, "you were a complete dick."

He chuckles, "let me ask you somethin'" he walks in further, takes a seat on a chair. I stand with my hands on my hips waiting for him to ask, "you've been here awhile now. And I know you know that I know everything that goes on here, but I gotta know, what game are you playing?"

"What do you mean?" I ask, unsure of how to answer that.

"There's been two to three opportunities for you to try and leave this place, but you haven't taken any. Most the time you know when to keep your shit together around the others but when it's just you and me, you're a badass who speaks her mind without fear of repercussion. You're a puzzle I just can't put together." He tells me.

"Maybe that's because you're not suppose to put me together. Maybe I'm not your puzzle to figure out."

"You're Daryl's puzzle then, huh?" He asks.

"I'm my own puzzle, Negan." I scowl, "ever stop to think that I don't have all my shit together? Clearly, I'm deranged if I'm starting to slowly see how things work on your side of the world."

He runs his tongue over his teeth with a smile and says, "so, you understand what I'm doing."

I shake my head, "I understand that you think you're helping people. That you really see yourself as some kind of hero to everyone. You really do try and stick to your way of things and that you don't want people to die unnecessarily."

"Exactly—" he chimes in.

But I interrupt him from continuing, "I'm not done. I also understand that you're just a broken man." I step closer to him, slowly as I speak, "you lost someone you love and you can't let that go. You carry her around with you in the form of a weapon, so you're not alone. I can see how broken you are because I'm broken, too. And it's not because of Daryl." I'm inches from him now, standing toe to toe with his boots. "I lost someone too, Negan. A long, long time ago."

"What happened?" He questions in a whisper.

I shake my head, "it was my fault, and I carried the burden of what I've done with me my entire life. Just like you said to Rick. I think about it everyday. Do you think about her everyday?"

"Every damn day" he nods and replies, both of us still whispering.

"But it doesn't help, does it?" I question, eyeing his bat. He looks down at it then back up to me. I lowered myself down to his eye level by squatting and he shakes his head no just once. I say, "because we can carry them around in our hearts, on our bodies, even as a weapon, but that doesn't make them there. It doesn't bring them back. It just reminds you what once was." I have a tear rolling down my face as I think about my sister and what happened.

"What happened?" Negan asks again, wiping the tear away. I move to take my shirt off and Negan just sits back a little, startled at my actions. When the shirt is off, I stand up and turn around showing him my tattoo. Negan stands up and gently brings a hand up to touch it. His cold hand gives me chills and I shiver as his finger runs down the angel wing on my left side, "who is this for?" His finger tip goes under the bra strap and down my back.

"My sister" I choke out, trying not to cry.

He runs his hand down the other side and asks again, "what happened."

"I killed her." I say flatly, turning around to look him in the eyes. He looks at me patiently, waiting to hear the story. "It was an accident. We were both so little. But I killed her. And when I was 16 and going through one shit foster care house to the next, I went out and got this tattoo. I got it to try and remind myself that she was still here with me, watching over me, protecting me. But that's bullshit!" I get angry, my voice shaking as it raises higher, "because she's dead. And there's nothing, no amount of tattoos, or kills with a bat can do to bring either of them back."

I step back from him and move to put my shirt back on. I try and hide the two tears that rolled down my face from him, but he caught it, because I can't think of any other reason he would say what he said next, "thank you."

"For what?" I spit at him over my shoulder.

"For opening up to me. I know it ain't easy. I know you don't want to be here. I know I'm not your favorite person in the world. But you decided, at some point, that you were going to trust me enough to tell me that story." He says softly.

"I told you it to make you feel bad." I argue, "what you said to Rick was one of the shittiest things you've done! And you've done nothing but shit things since I've met you."

He shakes his head, "bullshit and you know it."

"Negan, you lost a wife. I lost a sister, but he lost a son. A son. You can't tell him it was his fault. It wasn't! Just like it wasn't your fault Lucille died." Negan adjusts at the mention of her name, "and I would know more then anyone else. Because it was my fault my sister died."

"You said it was an accident." He chimes in.

I shake my head, "it doesn't matter."

He goes again, "you said you were just kids."

I shake my head further, "it doesn't matter! When it's your fault, it's your fault! And there's nothing anyone can tell you to make you feel different." Negan closes the distance between us and his hands are quickly pulling my cheeks towards his. It's a brief 5 second kiss before I could process and pull away, "what are you doing?" I wipe my mouth for emphasis, showing him I didn't want that to happen.

"It wasn't your fault, Sadie. You need to let it go." He pushes a piece of hair away from my face.

"Yea well, so do you." I look down again at the bat, now on the floor between us.