What's Said in Silence

Sera-XXXXXVIII

(C.W)

The throbbing in my head had increased from a dull ache to a pounding force behind my eyes. Cold had settled deep into my bones and the short sleeves of my shirt did nothing to shield me from potential frost bite. Muffled voices could be heard but I couldn't tell the direction.

I cracked my eyes open, my vision slightly blurred at first before my surroundings came into focus. At first I saw nothing in the darkness. Faintly, I could make out a set of stairs just in front of me. A small sliver of light peered through from just beneath the door like a beacon of hope too high up to reach.

My knee hurt from the way I'd been sitting with one leg folded beneath me. I went to readjust only to be restricted in my movements. My wrists had been bound behind me, locking me to a wood post. From the way the binds kept cutting into my skin, I could only guess they used zip ties again, and multiples of them.

Again, I attempted to readjust my leg, sliding it out from underneath me. The sharp edges of the post dug into my arms but I ignored it. Tingles spread through my calf and foot as blood rushed through them. I let out a sigh of relief as the pain in my leg slowly turned into a dull ache.

The door opened and blinding light washed over me. My eyes instinctively shut at the brightness as heavy footsteps made their way down the creaky steps, each footfall more thunderous than the last. What I wouldn't give for the quietness of Vessels walk. It used to startle me and I had found it annoying, but right now I missed it more than breathing.

"How ya feelin', doll?" He asked. I turned my head away from him, intent on ignoring him. "Now, now, if you had just stayed loyal in the first place we wouldn't be in this predicament." He stalked to the corner of the room and grabbed a small chair, dragging the metal legs across the concrete floor. The screeching sound pierced my ears and I winced. He placed the chair in front of me before taking a seat, his cologne invaded my nostrils and I nearly gagged at the smell.

He gripped my jaw and turned my face towards him. His features were cast in a dark shadow but the sinister gleam in his eyes was as bright as it had always been. I had once been naive enough to think that was a gleam of adoration. Love.

"Are you about done givin' me the silent treatment?" He sneered. I narrowed my eyes at him and clenched my jaw tight beneath his grip. I may have been too panicked to speak back at the house, but I would be damned if I spoke for this bastard ever again. He leaned back, his smile gone and his face relaxed.

A sharp sting bloomed across my face and would have sent me to the floor if it hadn't been for the post keeping me upright. My cheek burned and throbbed from the impact. I clenched my fists tight, digging my nails into my palms to distract me from the searing pain in my face. I was honestly surprised he'd waited this long to resort to violence. He'd hit me for less and a lot quicker before.

"Seraphine." He cooed, his voice much softer than his previous actions. "My precious Seraphine. The last thing I want to do is bruise that pretty little face of yours, you know that don't you?" Physically violent. Verbally gentle. Classic Preston.

My body jerked as a cold chill ran down my spine. My fingers had gone numb from the cold but most of my body was still feeling the painful effects of it. A wicked grin flashed across his face and he smugly readjusted his thick coat. He closed the distance between us again, getting eye level with me.

"Sorry about the heating, but if you'd like a blanket all you gotta do is ask." He was baiting me. It wasn't just that he wanted me to speak, greedy bastard that he was, he wanted me to beg. He'd love for me to scream out for help, beg him to let me go, plead for forgiveness. He wanted my vulnerability in its rawest form. If he thought I'd give it to him to avoid frostbite, he was in for quite a shock. 

I spat into his eye. He jerked back swiping his calloused hands at his face, cursing as he cleaned his eye. In reality, he was only making it worse considering the amount of dirt caked to his hands. When he looked back towards me, his face reddened and nostrils flared, I flashed him a grin.

Fuck. You. Preston.

Another crack to the side of my face, this time I had expected it, though that didn't make the sting hurt any less. He could hit me all he wanted, it wouldn't change anything.

"Freeze then, bitch. You'll crack sooner or later." With that he stormed back up the stairs, still rubbing his eye. He slammed the door behind him, leaving me in complete darkness again. It was a testament to how much I loathed him that I would rather be alone in a cold, dark basement than be in his presence. 

I rested my head back against the pillar and shut my eyes. Whatever sedative he'd given me was still coursing through my system, leaving me groggy and feeling like my eyelids were made of bricks. Above me, footsteps traveled all around, knocking dust from the ceiling loose. Specs landed on my face but I ignored it just the same as I did the burn in my cheek. 

"Is she gonna be able to do the job?" One of the male voices asked, muffled by the wood above me but still audible. 

"She will, just need some time to break her back in is all." Preston answered all too confidently. A beat of silence fell between them and I almost thought that was the end of their conversation, until another voice joined in. 

"The longer we wait to send her in, the more likely Dion is to figure out his shit isn't pure." Warning laced the mans tone. If I wasn't mistaken he sounded a bit worried, like he doubted Preston's abilities but had already gone this far with him. 

"I'm well aware of that!" Preston snapped. "If I send her in like this she's likely to fuck everything up. I just need to coax her back into the game. It shouldn't take too long." Either he was completely unaware of how easy it was to hear him, or he simply didn't care. Regardless, I wouldn't be coaxed into shit, not anymore.

It would seem that he hasn't learned from his time in jail. Honestly, I hadn't expected him to. Preston had figured out a way to roll in the dough and put the blame on someone else, and he'd been damn good at it. I can't count how many times I've been held at gunpoint because of that man, and how many times I was willing to take the bullet for him. Now, years later, he expected me to do what I'd always done. Go in and lie my way to the product he'd sold, steal it, and get out before they could figure out he'd cut it. 

A wicked feeling stirred within me, bringing on a strange sense of calm. If jail wasn't enough to convince him to walk a different path, then perhaps experiencing even a fraction of the fear I once had might. I visualized his customer confronting him, holding a gun to the side of his head until Preston, trembling in fear, gave up the money. He would. Preston was conniving and greedy, but he valued his life more than the dollar. I simply had to do what I've done best these last few years. 

Remain silent and wait. 

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A/N: HAPPY VALENTINES DAY! <3

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