The Cage (Book 2)

Friend in Prison

Friend in Prison

"You," I said, utterly shocked to see him standing in front of my cell, especially with the lights out in the prison. How was he allowed to be roaming out of his cell and chatting up other inmates? Where were all the patrolling guards?

As he stood staring at me from across the bars with an unfathomable look in his eyes, the irony of our situation did not escape me. Only two weeks ago the circumstances were reversed. I had been the one standing outside of the prison cell -metaphorically speaking.

"Yes, me. I'm glad you remember me." Schneider smiled and my heart reacted mysteriously.

Schneider Cross was not the kind of man one forgot, ever. To put it simply, he was unforgettable.

Blue eyes that could pierce into one's very soul peered at me. I'd always thought that kind of nonsense only existed in historical romance novels, but perhaps there was some truth to the matter and it wasn't all nonsense. The gaudy orange uniform all inmates wore could not hope to contain the raw virility and strength that was Schneider Cross. At six foot three, not a lot of men were as tall as he was. Broad shoulders sitting on top of a chest defined by muscles tapered to a thin waist. He exuded power, heady and unmistakable. And he was way too relaxed for someone in prison -shouldn't he have his guard up all the time?

I got the distinct feeling that he was committing me to memory -or eyeing me the way a predator eyed its next meal.

"Have you come to gloat?" I asked cautiously, narrowing my eyes at him skeptically.

Schneider looked momentarily stunned, as if he couldn't fathom why I'd ever ask such a thing.

"Why do you say that?"

The question caught me off guard. Well, wasn't it obvious? From the moment I'd stepped into this prison to the moment I was shoved into my cell, shackles still on, everyone had shown me hostility and unkindness. Why would he be any different?

"W-Why else would you be here?" It was a good question. Wasn't he the same as the rest of them? And from my research into his infamy, wasn't he the worst of all the prisoners in this hellhole? As a potential client, I had looked into him thoroughly. Him and his brother had stood out in all my research, but his brother was now dead.

Softly, he said, "I'm here as a friend."

A friend in prison. It sounded as unbelievable as a real life unicorn.

"Try again," I said stiffly, resenting him for the lie. How unkind; to extend a hand in pretend friendship with the intention to crush me with it when I had my guard down. It was outright diabolical.

I will not be made a fool of, I promised myself vehemently. The court had already done that by throwing me here on false murder charges. Because even a blind and deaf idiot could see that I was defending myself when I accidentally killed Kevin. And it was just that: an accident! But my testimony alone against a horde of corrupt, vengeful guards out to get me had not stood a snowball's chance in hell.

"I am serious. I told you we'd meet again." Schneider said, his voice low and alluring. The look in his blue eyes was so intense, they were practically glowing.

He did. He promised we'd meet again in the visitation room right after he'd planted an unconsented kiss on my lips.

My cheeks heated at the memory. Why was it that I could still remember how his lips felt crushed against mine?

He immediately realized that I was thinking about the kiss. He smirked infuriatingly, flashing a bit of white teeth.

"I see you have not forgotten." It was spoken arrogantly, with the intention to throw me off balance. And then he sobered, a serious look coming on his face. "Though this was not where I thought I'd see you again."

I looked away, ashamed. I'd had such a brilliant career waiting for me and was shooting for the stars. Now... Now I was in danger of getting shanked while I slept in a bunk bed.

Though I was never mighty (at least outside a courtroom), it felt like I'd fallen a long, long way.

"Here." I looked to see Schneider holding up a small metal key. "A gesture of my friendship."

I realized that it was the key to the cuffs still on my wrists.

Relief fluttered through me like a tidal wave. I stepped closer to the bars and held out my open hand, expecting him to drop the key into it.

Schneider, however, had other plans. He waved at the camera situated at the top right corner of the cell by the door and the door slid open.

My jaw dropped in astonishment. A quick glance past Schneider confirmed that it was just my cell door that had opened. How in the world did he manage to get the guards to open the cell door?!

Oh, fuck.

This couldn't be good.

I was at the other end of the cell in a heartbeat, clutching a book with both hands like a weapon. My heart thundered against my chest with bone-breaking force, pumping blood to my head at a hundred miles per hour. My breath came out in short puffs and my eyes narrowed on him. I was on full alert.

The taste of sheer terror permeated my mouth like a rancid poison, nearly crippling me. Everyone of my instincts and every fiber in my being told me to run. But run where? I was stuck in a cell and my would-be murderer stood blocking the only door.

Death was coming for me.

My knees knocked together.

This was it. Those bastard guards had sent Schneider to do their dirty work and finish the job.

Schneider paused. He raised a hand like one would raise it to calm a frightened doe. "I'm not going to hurt you-"

"Bullshit! Why else do you have the key?" Because the guards handed it to him, that was why. I would be the biggest fool to believe anything else.

"Alright, here. I'm putting the key on the table. You can uncuff yourself."

The moment Schneider turned around slightly to put the key on the table, I dropped the book and bolted, headed for the door.

A hand shot out to grab me by the waist, but I slammed the blunt end of the handcuffs down on it with every bit of force I could muster.

I heard Schneider let out a string of vile curses as I slipped from around him and out of the cell. I ran down the catwalk like a bat flying out of hell, passing by started inmates.

"We've got a runner!"

"Isn't that-!"

"Run, boy, run!"

"You won't get far, white boy!"

Not once did I dare look back. 

*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

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