Chapter 1

"That's it. He's given us exactly the way to break him. This is going to be fun," Negan said and gave his characteristic sinister smile.

Dwight maintained a serious expression. He didn't know what Negan was planning, but he knew that smile meant that someone would be getting hurt. Negan took great pleasure in inflicting pain on others, and he showed it with that smile. Dwight had seen that smile too many times recently. He had hoped to escape with his family and never have to see it again, but they had failed. His sister-in-law had died, and he'd ended up burned, disfigured by Negan. To add insult to injury, Negan had taken Dwight's wife. Now, Dwight was Negan's right-hand man, doing what it took to survive in a world that no longer made any sense.

Dwight had been given the task of breaking Daryl Dixon. Daryl was part of another group that Negan had defeated. That group had caused a lot of trouble for Negan and killed many of his men. Now, they were paying the price for messing with the wrong man. Two of their people were brutally bludgeoned to death by Negan in a terrifying show of power that left the group's leader, Rick Grimes, a sad, broken man. The rest of the group had not fared much better, but for some reason, Daryl refused to bow to Negan, both figuratively and literally.

This wasn't Dwight's first encounter with Daryl. When they had first met in the woods, Daryl had rushed to help Dwight and his family. He had fought to protect them from Negan's men. Dwight wondered what made Daryl so fearless. Daryl threw himself into danger and faced it eye to eye. He didn't have anything at stake, but he risked everything to help a group of strangers. Dwight envied Daryl because he had something inside him that Dwight did not. Negan could see it, too. It gave Daryl power, even now.

Daryl laid naked on a cold, concrete floor in the dark. He starved except for a dogfood sandwich a day, and an obnoxious song blared loudly over the speakers in the room. It would play and repeat constantly, never giving Daryl a moment to rest or sit in silence. Days of this did not break Daryl. He had still refused to do what Negan wanted, and he had even tried to escape. The beating Daryl received had not broken him either.

Dwight had felt himself growing angrier and angrier at Daryl. He had taken Daryl's belongings: the crossbow, the motorcycle, and even the angel-winged jacket. Yet, Daryl behaved as if he had lost nothing. His friends had been brutally murdered in front of him, one of them because of Daryl's own defiance. Yet, when Negan asked him who he was, expecting him to succumb and say he was Negan, Daryl still raised his head in defiance, and declared that he was Daryl.

Daryl should have felt completely powerless and degraded. He should have been crying and pleading by now. No matter what Dwight said or did, Daryl would not break. Dwight had even thrown him a picture of his dead friend, smashed all to hell.

"Dwight. Did you hear what I said?"

He hadn't. He gave his head a quick shake.

"Get me that new girl we got in last week. I think it's time for her to start earning her keep."

Dwight walked toward the house where the new woman was kept. What had he missed when he'd slipped into his revere about Daryl? Why had Negan suddenly requested to have this woman brought to him? Dwight kicked himself for letting his thoughts wander while he'd been with Negan. That had been stupid and dangerous.

He arrived at the house and opened the door. The door led straight into a kitchen, which contained a small round table. A group of women sitting at the table turned startled faces toward him. A little boy, no more than three, ran and hugged one of the women.

"Where's Mirit?"

"She's upstairs," replied a young woman standing in the doorway to the living room of the house.

"Go get her."

Mirit had been talking to her little brother when Jana came and knocked on the door.

"You just have to trust me and do what I say, okay. I won't let anything happen to you. We only have each other," she'd said. Then, the heavy, quick knock had made her jump. She'd rushed over and opened the door.

"What is it?"

"Dwight is here. He said to come get you."

Mirit looked alarmed for a second and then caught herself. She didn't want her brother to get scared after she had just managed to calm him down. She put a smile on her face and turned to look at Val.

"Jana, can you watch my brother for me while I go talk to Dwight. I'm so glad he finally came to visit because I really want to talk to him," she said as she walked over to Valentino and put her hands on his shoulders. She guided Val to Jana and smiled when Jana replied.

"Of course. Val is such a help around the house, and I'm sure Justy will be happy to play with him."

Mirit could not keep the look of sadness from her face at the mention of the baby boy downstairs. Luckily, Val was standing in front of her looking at Jana. Mirit nodded and walked past the two of them. As she descended the stairs, she thought about what would happen to all of them in this place. Up until three weeks ago they had been living in small community several miles to the east. Mirit and her brother Valentino were the only members of their family to survive Negan's attack. Mirit's mother, her uncle George, and her baby cousin, Jacob, had all been killed. Mirit and Val had made a run for it, but Negan's men had finally caught them and brought them to this place.

Justy was about the same age Jacob had been, and he looked so much like Val had at that age. Seeing the boy made the raw pain of loss smolder inside her, and it also made Mirit remember the days before this horror of a world, days when Val ran and played innocent and free. Now, his survival depended on Mirit. She had to protect what was left of her family.

Daryl sat next to a pile of dried vomit with his legs up, his arms crossed on his knees. He put his head down on his crossed arms and closed his eyes, trying to tune out the relentlessly cheerful music blasting into him. He felt it vibrating his bones and grit his teeth. Daryl wondered why they didn't just kill him. Supposedly, those who defied Negan would be put to death. Yet, here he sat. Why? Why had Glenn been killed in his place? What kept them from killing Daryl? Nothing made any sense.

Suddenly, the music stopped. Daryl heard the door opening and squinted to look in that direction, preparing for the sting of light. He expected to see Dwight standing there with a dogfood sandwich. Instead, he made out the silhouette of a woman. At first, Daryl thought that Dwight's wife had come to see him again to warn him to do what they said. Then, the woman spoke. He had never heard her voice before.

"Your name is Daryl?"

"Who're you?"

"I'm Mirit. I'm here to get you."

"Get me?"

"You are to take a bath."

"I ain't takin' no bath."

Mirit bent close to Daryl's ear and whispered to him urgently.

"Please. If you don't come with me, they'll kill me. My family needs me. Please, Daryl."

Shock coursed through Daryl, chilling him. So this was the new game they were playing. Daryl didn't know this woman. She didn't mean anything to him, but what if she was telling the truth? What if she had a family that needed her, and her life depended on what Daryl did or did not do? He could still say no. Would they really kill her? And if they did, would they stop there? How many people would die because of Daryl?

Part of him did not want to believe her, but the way her voice trembled let him know that she was truly afraid. He stood up. The woman rose with him, putting her hand out in case he needed help standing. He didn't. He followed her into the light of the hallway. As Daryl's eyes adjusted, he could see that the woman was alone. She stood several inches shorter than him. He could easily overcome her and make a run for it. Or, he could try to take her with him so they wouldn't kill her. No, she had a family that was depending on her. They could easily kill her family if she fled.

Mirit led Daryl to a door and pushed it open. Daryl walked in and looked around the room. There was an old hot tub in the center of the room, like a tiny swimming pool built into the floor. A bar of soap and a bottle of shampoo sat at the edge of the hot tub.

"You were serious."

"What?"

"They want me to take a bath."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I don't know. They said that you seem too comfortable in your own filth."

Daryl winced. The statement was accurate.

"Fine. You can go. I'll take a bath."

"I can't leave."

"Whatever."

Daryl stripped off the outfit they had finally given him after days of naked torture had failed to break him.

Mirit blushed and turned away, unprepared for Daryl's sudden disrobing.

She pulled the string that tied the halter top of her dress in place, and let it fall to the floor.

Daryl had started walking to the hot tub stairs when he saw Mirit drop her dress in his peripheral vision. He turned to face her completely naked body.

"What is this?"

Mirit covered herself with her hands and avoided looking at Daryl.

"I have to be in there with you."

"What?"

"I'm supposed to be in there . . ."

"You're trying to seduce me."

"No!" Mirit exclaimed, alarmed. She rushed past Daryl and got into the water. "I just have to be sure you actually take a bath, and I have to be in here."

Daryl looked at her incredulously. He felt like taking the outfit and leaving her there in the hot tub. The sick game Negan was playing had gone too far. Did he really think that sending a woman to seduce him would win him over?

Daryl examined the woman in the hot tub. She had not looked up at him once. She held her hands over her breasts, and she stood at the edge of the hot tub, away from the stairs. She seemed to be shivering. Daryl walked toward the stairs of the hot tub and put his toe in the water. The water was hot. Maybe Negan had sent this woman to seduce him, but she did not appear to be one of the brainwashed followers who would do anything for Negan. Perhaps she was telling the truth.

"Just stay over there," he said as he entered the tub.

Mirit looked at Daryl's face. Tears were flowing down her cheeks. "You're not going to hurt me?"

"No."

Daryl turned angrily to the soap and took it. He scrubbed his face, arms, and neck with it. Then, he rinsed and began to walk toward the stairs.

For an instant, Mirit forgot that she was in a dangerous position with a man she didn't know. She reached out and placed her hand on Daryl's chest as he passed by her, making his way toward the stairs. He stopped and stared down at her hand. She held him there and reached for the bottle of shampoo with the other hand. Then, she took her hand off Daryl's chest and poured some shampoo into it. She replaced the bottle on the edge of the tub and lathered the shampoo in both hands. She began to massage Daryl's scalp clean with the shampoo.

Daryl had been paralyzed by the woman's hand, and when she took it away he began to come to his senses. He had not expected her to stop him or move near him. She had appeared to be afraid of him. Now, she was washing his hair. He turned slowly to face her, and her breast bumped into his back. Daryl's breath caught in his nose, and then he let it out in a quick shallow breath. He felt a sudden dizziness.

Mirit immediately pulled back from the man, blushing deeply as he turned to look her in the eyes.

"I thought you said you weren't here to seduce me."

"I'm . . . not . . ."

"Well you're doing a lousy job."

Daryl closed his eyes and washed his hair with the shampoo Mirit had put on it. He rinsed it off and got out of the tub. Then, he grabbed the outfit to put it back on.

"No. The robe," Mirit said as she followed him out of the tub.

She grabbed two robes and handed one to Daryl. Then, she quickly put on the other one.

Daryl put on his robe and began to walk toward the door.

Just then, Negan entered the room. He smiled broadly at Daryl and Mirit.

"So, I see that something does get to you, after all," Negan said as he looked pointedly at Daryl.

Daryl clenched his jaw and stared back at Negan.

Mirit looked down to the floor, afraid to look up.

"Go ahead and take her. You obviously want her. I don't blame you. She's pretty hot. Might want her myself if I wasn't a married man," Negan said and winked.

Daryl glared at him.

"No? Okay, sweetheart. Get going. It's time for the men to talk."

Mirit didn't wait. She hurried out of the room.

"It's okay. If you don't want her, someone else will. Maybe old Brutus. That's not his real name, but it fits him better. He just went through wife number two. He likes it too rough. Her body was a real mess. Thought about punishing him for a while by making him stay single, but he's been working hard for me lately."

"What?"

"Think about it. Might not be as bad as you'd think, having a wife."

Grinning the entire way, Negan led Daryl back to his room in a stunned silence. After leaving Daryl there he laughed to himself and said, "Gott'em."