Page 99 of White Noise

Silas shifts, his movement fluid and predatory, ensuring I remain trapped in his line of sight. “Finally, something we agree on.”

I give him the finger without looking back, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. “But I know more than I did yesterday.”

“And?”

“And now I want answers.”

That seems to interest him. I can feel his gaze crawling over my skin, heavy and possessive, stripping me bare even through my clothes.

The faint, cruel smile returns as he watches me straighten the surviving cables on the nightstand. It’s a useless habit, a desperate attempt to find order in a space he has completely colonized.

“You going to interrogate me?”

I snort, though it sounds more like a shudder. “Because you’ve been so helpful up to this point?”

“You could ask.”

“And you’d lie.”

“Probably.”

“At least we’re making progress.”

His laugh is low, a guttural vibration that seems to echo not in the room, but inside my own skull. I try to ignore it, forcing my mind to drift, to calculate, to find a crack in his armor.

Everything with Silas has happened here.

This condo.

These rooms.

My devices.

My fucking wiring.

Even when he tore through Void, he used a screen as his gateway.

He treats this place like his personal laboratory, and me as the specimen pinned to the board.

Maybe that means something. Maybe it doesn’t.

But I’m done being the passive subject in his sick little game. I’ve spent enough time letting Silas decide what gets tested; I’m tired of waiting for the next shock, the next degradation, the next time he decides to break me just to see how I fit back together.

I look toward him again, my voice trembling despite my effort to sound defiant.

“How far can you go?”

His brows lift slightly, a flicker of amusement crossing his cold features. “With you?”

“Don’t make it weird.”

“Too late.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

I roll my eyes, though the air feels thick, making it hard to breathe. “How far can you get from here?”