Deadland

Chapter 89- Revenge

"Where the fuck is my money?!" I scream, the man tied to the chair whimpers at my voice.

"I don't know! I don't have it!" 

"You told me that in two weeks, two! Weeks! You would have my money. That's two weeks past due! You're lucky I haven't ripped your dick off and fed it to you! Which I am incredibly close to doing now!" I lean closer to the man, my breath hot on his face. "Where...is it?" The question comes out as more of a warning than anything. 

I'm seething, seven types of drugs and a hell of a lot of them too. I'm supposed to have $30,000 in cash in my hand. I was supposed to have it two weeks ago. But I gave him one warning- the rattle of a Rattlesnake.

The man cries under my gaze, "I don't know! I don't have it!" 

I punch him in the jaw, "Bullshit! I'm gonna ask you one more time. And if you don't tell me the truth, every question gets a fingernail. Or a tooth. Or a finger. I dunno, I'm the one with the pliers and knife." 

I straighten up and grab a pair of pliers, grabbing one of the man's fingernails and using my other hand to keep his hand steady, even though the ropes are doing a lot of the work for me. I feel his hand tense in my grip, his whimpers coming out breathlessly

"Money. Why don't I have it?" 

"Please, please, please!" He cries. 

I tilt my head and push my tongue into my lower lip in anger. "Lies hurt don't they?" 

He screams out in agony as one of his nails gets pulled out by my pliers, blood dripping from his finger.

"You're eighteen! Why are you doing this to me?!" He cries. 

"Because I don't have my fucking money!"

I shake my head to get the memory out of it.

Ah, I have. This'll be a piece of cake. 

I sheathe my knife and walk out of the room, making my way to the hallway with the cells. 

"Ah! There she is!" Negan says. "He's not in his cell. We have another room with a double mirror." 

I nod, "Ah, police-type shit. Givin' me flashbacks." 

Negan chuckles and wraps his arm around my shoulders, "To when? When you got arrested for robbin' a damn bank or the few times you got caught with drugs? Or when you almost got the torture charge?" 

I scoff and walk down the hall with him, "Meh, both. My father was pretty fuckin' scary in those rooms. Rick too. Luckily I give really good puppy dog eyes and my dad- before he went bat-shit crazy, had a soft spot for me." 

Negan chuckles and nods, "Well, Nick had a habit of ratting you out. Stopped doing that after Cato and I beat his ass." 

"That's what happened?!" I exclaim. "He said another gang jumped him." 

Negan laughs a hearty laugh, "No. Cato and I cornered him. You never got a charge again." 

"Aw, so sweet." I look at Negan. "Have you spoken to Cato? Honestly, when I saw you at the Line Up and you told me about Nick, I expected to get back here and see Cato." 

Negan shakes his head, "Haven't seen 'im-ah!" He points to the room in front of us. "He's already in there. There's a table of your favorite shit from before. I better be satisfied." 

I nod, "The Rattlesnake is still in my veins, c'mon now." 

He chuckles, "Well, alright then." He says, opening the door and allowing me to walk inside.