As time went on Cecilia had no idea if Simms meant to kill her or not, but it seemed a likely possibility either way. It'd be just like Simms to kill her accidentally, getting carried away with his little game. Either way, it was agony. Each time she was sure it was the last time and she'd simply fade out. She found herself wishing desperately to wake up in bed with Owen, surrounded by their dogs and perhaps not safe, not truly, but the closest thing to it she'd known in years.
When Simms flopped back Cecilia was still gasping desperately for air, taking giant gulps of it and remaining certain she'd never have enough again. Everything hurt, but her head especially was pounding. Her throat felt like it was lined with broken glass. She was determined to show more emotion and especially no fear, but there was no help for the pained, angry tears that fell from the corners of her eyes.
Cecilia had two warring instincts. One was simply to keep her mouth shut, not say a word, not even acknowledge him. The other was to fight in the only way she could, with words. Get him angry. Simms was even stupider when he was angrier. He might take it out on her, yes, but maybe he'd tire himself out. Leave a weakness for someone else to exploit.
In the end, she couldn't keep her mouth shut. She was too angry, and too determined to show him he couldn't break her. "Your poor kid," she finally managed to breath, her voice ragged and full of more gravel than usual. "He's never gonna know... what happened to you. You're never going back to a cell. You'll die here, you're making sure of that. Junior will grow up thinking you took off. Another dead beat piece of trash that couldn't hack it. But... it's probably better for him that way. Best chance he's got... at being a decent man. I hope his mom... has her shit together."