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Ch. 17 - Get Out

My eyes were locked on the boiling pot before me as I continued to stir the pasta. A brief pause lingered, I assumed Negan was furiously thinking of a response until Dwight spoke again.

"D'you wanna send a squad after him?" Dwight spoke. Again, Negan failed to respond momentarily. Then, he spoke sternly.

"No," the door slammed shut, shaking the walls to which it was attached. I pulled myself out of my trance and began to stir the pasta frantically. Negan's heavy footsteps approached behind me, his walk giving away his mood before he even spoke to me. 

"You fuckin' know anything about that, hm?" He investigated, his breath warming the skin on my neck. I continued stirring, my pace now slow and steady.

"About what?" I responded.

"Your little hometown fuck-buddy is missing," he sneered as he backed away from me, now heading toward his dining table.

"Okay, first of all, Daryl and I were not fuck buddies," I said as I spun to face him, pointing at him with the spoon. "But I might know something about it," I dribble out, deciding that telling him the truth is the best way to handle it. He stops in his tracks, standing just past the opposite side of the countertop. He turned around making eye contact with me and stepped forward to the counter. As he approached, he slowly yet firmly, grasped the edge of the surface. I dropped my hand to my side.

"What the fuck," he clenched his jaw before he continued, "did you fucking do?"

I chewed the corner of my lip as I began to bat my eyes. I had to respond, but I couldn't find myself to answer him. I almost felt guilty for what I did, but I couldn't because I did what was right for my people.

"I let him go before the party," I answered honestly.

"Jade," he growled as he slowly closed his eyes, followed by a loud huff through his nostrils. "Please tell me you're just tryna pull my balls right now," he brought one hand up to his face, rubbing his fingers down his features and through his facial hair.

"I'm telling you the truth-" I spit out, Negan smacking his palm firmly on the surface in response. 

"Why the fuck would you let him go?" He boomed, his eyes locked with mine in a fury. 

"I think it's a step in the right direction," I said calmly in an attempt not to escalate the situation. Negan was aggressive when he was upset, and he still kind of scared me. "The Saviors have to earn their trust, Negan."

"The Saviors don't give a fuck about trust," he snapped. I furrowed my eyebrows and cocked my head to the side, suddenly feeling very irritated.

"Well, I do," I spoke firmly. "So does Rick, and so do the Alexandrians." He stayed silent, his eyes hadn't left mine for a beat. "I made the call so we can start moving forward from all this shit," I said as I flailed my arms around, before turning back to check on the noodles. As I swirl the spoon in the water, I decide the pasta looks cooked through, and take one out to test it. After confirming my thoughts, I went to drain the pasta in the sink using the lid with the pot.

"I do not believe that was your goddamn call, Jade," he began to raise his voice.

"Well," I began to speak as I shook the last of the water out of the pot. "It was my decision alone, so if you're going to punish someone, let it be me."

Negan remained silent as I brought the pot back to the stovetop. I made my way to the fridge, opening it and reaching for the milk bottle and jar of butter inside. I closed the refrigerator door with my foot, brought the ingredients to the counter next to the stove, and then removed the lid from the pot. I poured in the milk first, then added a heaping spoonful of butter, and finally ripped open the cheese packet, stirring it all together. Once the ingredients incorporated themselves, I grabbed the butter and milk and put them back in the fridge, closing it with my hand.