Page 196 of Black Reign

I look around.

Concrete.

Pipe.

Door.

Old wall control near the opposite corner.

Cheap.

Networked.

Maybe.

I almost laugh.

Papa always said people spent fortunes securing computers and then connected everything to something stupid.

I shift my wrists.

Pain flashes.

The restraint is tight.

Too tight.

There is a rough metal edge behind the chair where part of the frame has split.

I work against it.

Slowly.

The plastic doesn't give.

My skin does.

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep quiet.

Again.

The sharp edge catches my wrist.

Warmth slides over my palm.

Fuck.

I stop.

Breathe.

Then try again.

Not because I want to hurt myself.

Because I would rather bleed than find out what those men mean by a long time.

The restraint finally loosens enough for one hand to twist.