Penelope
The fourth time Bane pulls my head from the water, I vomit.
Water and bile spill down my chin, onto my chest, and I can't stop shaking. Every breath is a painful rasp, my lungs burning like I've inhaled fire instead of air.
"Disgusting," Bane mutters, stepping back to avoid the mess.
He circles me slowly, and I force my head up to track his movement despite how much effort it takes. I can't show weakness, I can't let him see how close I am to breaking.
But my body betrays me when I start trembling uncontrollably, tears mixing with the water on my face, gasping breaths that sound like sobs.
"You know what I love about water torture?" Bane asks conversationally, crouching in front of me so we're eye level. "It doesn't leave marks, it doesn't break bones and doesn't damage the
