Poker Face

Chapter 38 - Escape

Aven replayed the scene with Tanya over and over in her head, analyzing the woman's outburst. She found herself writing Tanya's exact words in her notebook, trying to make sense of the mindset behind the bitch.

Just fucking kill me. Put me out of my misery. You put me in, now put me out.

She tried to start a list of things she knew about Tanya, but that was little to nothing: her name, her attitude, her behavior during their few interactions, her wife-status, and the fact that she'd probably been genuinely and madly in love with Negan before he suddenly disbanded the wives for Aven. From that list, stemmed Aven's list of offenses towards Tanya: uprooting her life, ordering her around, man-handling her, calling her a slut, and, of course, shooting her in the head.

"Huh," Aven huffed in thought, displeased with herself. "I wish I hadn't called her a slut," she murmured. "That was uncalled for."

What bothered Aven more than her offenses towards Tanya was the curiosity over just how much Negan made the woman believe he cared before completely dumping her. Before Aven could analyze any further, there was a knock at the door. She furrowed her brow as she hopped out of bed and pulled on a sweatshirt over her tanktop before heading towards the door.

"Negan's off-base," she called before opening it.

"I know, it's Dwight," he said from the other side.

"Dwight?" Aven opened the door, puzzled. "You didn't go with the group to Alexandria?"

"Negan didn't take a group," Dwight replied. "I was just coming to check on-"

"He went alone?!" Aven interrupted him, whipping around and rushing back into the bedroom to pull on a pair of jeans and her boots. "Everyone just fucking let him go alone with a kid who just came in and killed our people?" she called back frantically.

"No one lets Negan do anything," Dwight growled. "Remember where you are."

"I don't fucking care where the fuck I am," Aven spat, lacing up one of her boots. "Your leader just went alone to a large community run by a man who killed thirty Saviors. We're going after him."

"Yeah, no," Dwight snorted as Aven began lacing up her other boot. "I just came to make sure you were in here. And you're staying here: Negan's orders." Aven stepped back into the living room hurriedly, just in time to see the door shut and lock with Dwight on the other side. She cursed under her breath, rushing forward to bang on the door but immediately stopping herself; she knew he wasn't going to open it. She scanned the room and ran to the windows, deflating as she quickly realized it wasn't a viable escape option. She went back to the door and started tugging at the handle aggressively, trying to see how solid it was, but Dwight was lingering outside to make sure she didn't cause any problems.

"Don't even try," he called through the door. Aven stepped back with a huff before reluctantly resolving to go back to her notebook. She was mad at Negan for having her locked in but her worry was more potent.

An hour later, the sun had set fully and Aven crawled into bed to try to get some sleep, exhausted from a full day. She struggled to relax and couldn't keep her eyes closed until she noticed the open bottle of scotch on the night table next to her, where she'd put it to keep it away from Amber. She pulled the stopper out and took a large swig from the bottle with the usual grimace, and then another, gagging at the taste which lingered bothersomely until she finally began to doze off twenty minutes later.

Her sleep wasn't restful and she woke several times throughout the night, jolting out of nightmares over Negan's decision to go to Alexandria alone, interspersed with nightmares born from a quickly growing fear that she would end up like Tanya, heartbroken and at the whim of Negan's new favorite. Early in the morning after waking from one last nightmare, Aven took three more giant swigs of scotch and finally fell deep asleep.