Can't No Preacher Man Save My Soul

"You did what?!"

All throughout the town Jensen Kasser was known as a degenerate gambler. Untrustworthy, deceitful and cunning the man didn't uphold a generous reputation. He had been known to sell out even his own best friend to get out of a sticky situation - resulting in the slaughter of said best friend. Despite his status, Jensen had started off as a good father.

Arielle Kasser had been his precious princess from the moment he held her in his arms. Her bright blue eyes, resembling his own, staring up at him gave him the hope he needed to turn his life around. And he did … for a while. When Arielle turned five years old, her mother had unfortunately been involved in a hit and run - the police found her dead on arrival. She had been on her way home from a late night shift at the diner, and never made it home. Since then, Mr. Kasser fell deep into his downward spiral. For a few years his parents helped with Arielle, raising her and teaching how to become a proper young woman, but it was only a matter of time until it was their time to pass. When she was twelve, Arielle was stuck in a home with an absent parent addicted to alcohol, pills and gambling - a toxic combination. She slowly learned how to hate her father and fend for herself, learning life's true harsh lesson - every man for themselves.

Now a grown woman - twenty-six years of age - the blonde wasn't surprised to find her father in yet another financial rut. However, this time, he got himself into deep shit; the kind leading to cooperation or death. Having borrowed money and unable to pay the high amount, Mr. Kasser did the only thing he could do to save his own skin.

"Look, Elle, you don't want your old man to die, do you?" he questioned, his attempt in trying to manipulate the situation.

"At this point I really wouldn't fucking care," she answered truthfully, attempting to push her father out of her room. "How fucking dare you!" she screamed, her fists pumping against his chest. "I am not a pawn to throw at someone for your sick, twisted addiction. I am a human being - not a toy!" Her hand flew to her mouth, covering it as her eyes filled with tears of rage. "I am your daughter. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"Of course it does!" Something in his language changed - his eyes darkening. "It means you owe your life to me; 'cause if it wasn't for me, you wouldn't be alive." Arielle took a step back, struck by a stupor from his words. Though she knew her father was a deadbeat, gambling obsession, conceited dickhead, she couldn't comprehend how low he had sunk. "Now you're going to go off with him like a good little girl and you're going to shut up about it."

"NO!" Arielle, in a fit of rage, shoved her father into the wall hard enough for him to create a hole in the structure. Swiftly grabbing her phone, Arielle sprinted from her room, into the hallway but was stopped in the living room but a group of three men blocking the door; two burly bodyguards and a man wearing a sly smirk.

"Hello darling," he greeted - the smirk growing bigger. "Sweet fucking baby Jesus; you're Jonesin' Jensen's kid? Well, well, I'm gonna have fun with you." Arielle stood in fear, her eyes wide and lips slightly agape. The man took a few steps closer to her, lightly stroking her cheek with a gloved hand. "Name's Negan. And you are mine now." His husky, yet threatening, tone sent shivers down her spine. This was it, the beginning of the rest of her life.

Quote: "Won't go back to Barton Hollow, devil gon' follow me e'er I go. Won't do me no good washing in the river; can't no preacher man save my soul."

Author's Note: Here is my attempt at doing a Negan fic. Inspired by the song Kill For You by Skylar Grey.