Poker Face

Chapter 15 - Tyrant

You can't take a whip and tame it
~

Aven woke to the sun peering over the horizon. She was clutching Negan's white t-shirt with his hand rested on top of hers, her head moving with the rise and fall of his chest. The steady thumping of his heart lulled her for a moment before she remembered where she was and froze.

"Relax, doll," Negan drawled without opening his eyes, squeezing her hand gently. He'd become very familiar with her anxiety, the way she went still when she sensed danger she couldn't get out of. But she wasn't in danger, at least not at his hands. This danger was self-inflicted. Her lips and skin buzzed with the memories of Negan's kisses, butterfly wings thrashing inside her stomach. She was too comfortable in his arms, too comfortable with someone who ruled like a tyrant and collected misfortuned women like action figures.

"We should get going, right?" she asked. She moved to sit up but the strong arm that was wrapped fully around her waist held her firmly in place effortlessly.

"Five more minutes," he hummed in her ear, nuzzling the side of his face against her head. The show of affection was meant to charm her back into comfort, which it did, but Negan was also savoring her warmth. For whatever reason, having any one of his wives in his arms wasn't as blissful as holding Aven.

"Okay," she squeaked, powerless to her own inclinations. Negan looked so peaceful as he rested, so handsome. His warm breath on her forehead brought her back to the night before when he'd suddenly started acting so sweet. But a moment passed and Aven's mind was racing with reasons to run away, all centered around two facts: 1. She was falling for him, and 2. He would hurt her irreparably if she let things go any further. She knew he wanted her and didn't doubt that his affection was genuine, but his affection was only part of the bigger picture of a selfish, indulgent, temperamental man. "Okay, wake up," she finally ordered, playfully swatting her hand on his chest to hide her doubtful demeanor.

Ten minutes later, they were back on the road, Aven hardly saying a word and staring distractedly out the window while Negan occasionally admired her out of the corner of his eye, well-aware of the second thoughts she was having. He was feeling confident about winning her over after the previous night, but he also knew how hard to read she was and how she shielded herself. She'd become an entirely different person in his arms, meek and easily affected, but he knew she let him see that because she wanted him to. She even had control over the way she was losing control to him. But it was easy to see that she was now reeling it back in, and easy to guess why. Negan knew he wasn't a good person to fall for and couldn't deny the doubts she was probably having.

Since they hadn't reached the outpost Negan planned to sleep at the night before, they bipassed it and headed straight for the abandoned town where he said he'd drop her off. It was still half a day's ride, which gave Aven plenty of time to try to convince herself she could let him leave her once they got there. On the other hand, it gave Negan plenty of time to figure out what exactly it was he was trying to do.

The main objective was to get Aven to stay, but it was fully spurred by his attraction to her. Her mind and eye for observation could be an asset to him, but he didn't care if she came back to the Sanctuary and never contributed one thing as long as it meant he could be around her. But being around her wasn't going to be enough and if he wanted her for real, he was going to have to alter his image and upheave his wives, which he wasn't quite willing to do. He was a different person with Aven, but it didn't mean he was any less his normal self otherwise...did it?

"We're getting close," he said after hours of relative silence aside from comments here and there. "About an hour out I think, so you're gonna wanna start confessing your undying devotion to me now," Negan teased. Aven only grunted in response. "You've been awfully fuckin' quiet."

"I'm a quiet person," she responded.

"Funny, I seem to remember you screaming your head off for a period of time."

"That was different," she mumbled. "That wasn't me."

"I guess it also wasn't you who told me to fuck myself up the ass that first day in the cell?" Aven kept her face turned towards the window as a small smile cracked onto her face.

"No, that was me."

"All that screaming was anger though," he added, running his tongue across his teeth. "You were blowing off steam...bet I could think of a much more fuckin' fun way to do that," he teased, his grin apparent in his voice. "Then you'd really be screaming."

"You're an asshole," she scoffed.

"And the messed up thing is you like me anyway," he grinned, reaching out and squeezing her thigh. She slapped him away immediately.

"Pull over," she ordered, but Negan only chuckled. "I mean it, pull over."

"Come on, doll. Don't get your panties in a bunch."

"PULL OVER!" she yelled.

"I'm gonna need to hear a fucking please," he taunted, but instead of answering, Aven unbuckled her seat belt and threw it aside, her hand flying to the door handle and cracking the door open. Negan cursed, slamming on the breaks so she couldn't hurt herself, and as she quickly got out of the car a smile twitched at her lips through her anger, letting him know she'd been bluffing and he'd fallen for it. She grabbed the bag Negan had packed for her off the floor of the car and slammed the door shut before turning and walking away from the road, towards the woods.

"Oh, fuck me," Negan muttered, pushing the door open with his foot. "Come the fuck on, Aven, don't pull this fuckin' shit," he called after her, not earning a response. "Motherfucking god damn shit fuck." Negan stalked off after her, cursing on an infinite loop. Aven finally stopped at the edge of the woods, knowing he'd keep following if she ignored him.

"What's the fucking problem, Negan?" she asked holding out her arms. "I'm leaving, I'm done, this isn't news. This doesn't have to be a big fucking thing."

"Well it's gonna be a big fucking thing if you don't get your motherfucking ass back in that god damn motherfucking car," he growled, forgetting he had no authority over her. She just gritted her teeth and scoffed before turning to start walking again.

"Bye, Negan," she said firmly.

"I don't fucking think so," he barked, grabbing her arm. She spun back to him with his hand closed around her bicep and brought her opposite knee swiftly up to his crotch. He anticipated it and leaned mostly out of the way, but not quite enough. He cursed and let go of her, backing up for a second to recover. When he looked up she'd drawn her knife from its sheath and was ready to strike. He expected to see the usual veil over her eyes, thinking he'd once again triggered a memory of being attacked, but he looked straight at her and realized she was one hundred percent present.

Before she could lunge at him, something whizzed past between them and stuck in a nearby tree. Their heads both whipped around to see a muscular man in a leather vest with a crossbow pointed straight at Negan's head.