Page 127 of The Silencer
I can’t fucking look.
After they took a part of me, they cauterized the wound. The pain of it made me pass out, the smell of it, the agony. I only woke when they threw me back downstairs. Thankfully they took the rag out of my mouth and handed me a bottle of water. At least I can move around, but right now, it hurts too much to do anything. Everything aches.
How can something so small be so painful?
I lean my head back against the wall and try to meditate, but I can’t focus. It’s too hard to think past it. It’s a fire in my skin, my nerve endings ablaze. My legs start to shake and I pull them into my chest and lay my head on my bent knees.
I don’t want to lose any more parts. I don’t want to fall to pieces. What if no one wants me after this? What if Anthony doesn’t?
I shouldn’t be thinking these things, and yet in this dark basement, with only the shadows and mice to keep me company, I can’t help it. It’s the only thing that’s replaying over and over in my head.
I might die.
What will he tell my parents if I don’t make it? If he doesn’t get to me in time?
They will be devastated.
The thought of my parents faces as he breaks the news to them makes my eyes well with tears once more. I rub my swollen eyes on the knees of my dirty jeans and sniffle.
I won’t die here. I won’t.
I don’t know how I manage it, but I fall asleep. Perhaps it was sheer exhaustion or the throbbing pain lulling me to the other side, but eventually my eyes closed and I drifted off. It was the first peaceful moment I’ve had since being taken.
I don’t want to wake up. I don’t want to face what’s next.
But I’m forced to.
Strong, rough hands grab on to me, yanking me up, and I startle, kicking my feet out and fighting the monster. As I come awake, groggy and disoriented, I realize that my arm is on fire once more, that my nerve endings are zinging with pain as the two meatheads haul me up the stairs.
They strap me down in the chair once more and there’s Douglas looking well-fed and showered.
“I hope you fucking die, you piece of shit,” I spit out as soon as I see him.
He grins at me, thinking it’s funny. But I’m not deterred. This is the first time I’ve had my mouth free since he captured me, and I plan on using it.
“What? Looking so smug? You’re pathetic. A loser. Tying me down and cutting me up. That make you feel like a real big man?”
His grin slips and he runs a hand through his hair. “Don’t tempt me with cutting, boy. I’ll do a whole lot worse than that.”
“Yeah, yeah, you and your big knives. You’re stupid. Such a loser. Probably can’t even get it up, huh?”
Grape-head snorts a laugh at this, and Douglas turns to glower at him. He quickly swallows it back and then shrugs. “I mean, it was kinda funny.”
“Keep your thoughts to yourself, Butch. You piece of shit. And you,” he turns his gaze back to me. “Maybe I should cut out your tongue so you shut the fuck up.”
The thought of it, the way that would feel makes my entire body shake with fear, but I don’t let up. Yes, I’m scared but I’m also mad.
“What? You want me to beg, you ugly fuck? I won’t. No, when Anthony gets to you, I’m going to tell him to let me have a go at you. Maybe you’ll be the one in the chair, huh? Maybe Bane will scoop out your eyeballs.”
I grin at him, knowing my lips are bloody and my voice is slightly unhinged, but the thought of doing that to him makes me giddy. I want a chance to rip him apart.
“See, that’s where you’re wrong. They won’t ever find me. Or you. Well, unless you count the pieces of you I’ll deliver to him.”
“Try it, you pathetic piece of garbage.”
His nostrils flare, and I see him grab his knife. Fuck. Shit. I taunted him too much, pushed him too far. He makes his way toward me, intent on doing just as I suggested. And I lean back, trying to scramble out of the way, but unable to move.
Fuck. Fuck!