The Offering (Lesbian, Gay, Girlxgirl)

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The bathroom was plain. It had an industrial appeal what with its bare concrete floor and walls. One could easily mistake it for a gloomy prison cell if it weren't for the toilet, open cabinets, and sink. There was no tub, only a circular shower-head that dangled directly above a drain. Brielle was not thrilled by the absence of prison bars for there were no windows either. She was still held captive.

The woman, Matilda, had warned her of sending the guards in if she didn't clean herself willingly, so Brielle stripped, letting the soiled clothes drop without regard. It was odd to be doing this at such a time, but considering she was out of options like a puppet on a string, she allowed the circumstances to jerk and pull her under the shower-head.

Warm water rained at her hair, heavy and dragging. The tang of salt slid on her cheek, all the way to her trembling lips. She angled her face to the water. Brielle hated how weak she felt, how powerless she was in the larger scale of things. In the days leading to this, she had broken her own promises of staying strong, of keeping it together. She'd been bouncing all over the place, shifting from curiosity one day, to fear the next. She had not only failed herself, but her father too. How stupid was she to think that Vincent had nothing to do with his disappearance? Vincent was always in the thick of things.

Her nails dug on her palm. It was his fault that she was here, his doing that her father was gone. She wanted revenge. If she could only go through that door, wrap her fingers on his neck and choke him to death, she'd be the happiest girl in the New World.

Her fist slackened, leaving her with stings and traces of cuts on her skin. She had to be rational about this. There were things far more important than retribution. Sometimes personal pleasure had to wait in favor of achieving your purpose. All those books she'd read about life, all those stories were clearer now. One couldn't win if one played by the rules of the enemy. Her lips curled.

"You look perkier than before, girl," Matilda said when Brielle stepped through the bathroom door. "The shower must have done wonders." The woman scrutinized her from head to foot, taking in her dripping hair and the towel she wrapped tightly against herself. The red ribbon was still fastened on Brielle's right wrist, looped a couple of times securely. She'd forgotten that it was there. It had acted like a second skin. "Why didn't you take that off?"

"Master Vincent had given it to me. He said not to lose it." She didn't have trouble saying "master" now. It was a lie, just like her smooth face.

"In that case, stand over here so I can check your measurements." Matilda pointed to a space, and there Brielle stood dutifully. The room was as windowless as hers and Talin's, though not as comfortable. As with the bathroom, only the concrete design was its main attraction- if you wouldn't keep count of the number of drawers available. There were far too many enclosed around them, each but a size of three shoe boxes, numbered from 1 to who knows what. It made her a bit claustrophobic.

"What's in there?" Brielle asked.

Matilda gave her a scrutinizing look, then went to a drawer numbered 353. "Who said you could talk?"

"You didn't say I should remain quiet either," Brielle replied, remembering the woman's manner of speaking when she first arrived in this room.

Matilda returned to her with an approving glance, though her scowling lips said otherwise. "Smart mouth you have there, girl. I advise you to keep it shut later, if you don't want to get in trouble."

"Girl is not my name. It's Brielle." She retained her smooth face. "And what's for later?"

The woman handed her a white box. It wasn't heavy, but there was definitely something inside. "You ask too many questions."