The Cage (Book 2)

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Our eyes met. Schneider stilled. A horrified expression crossed his face in the blink of an eye, followed by a regretful one. Then, he sighed and got off me. As soon as his weight was off me, I could breathe normally again. I would have shot off the bed too, but my legs were so shaky, I was afraid I'd fall to my knees the moment I stood up. So, I lay very still, collecting myself and waiting for my heart to stop trying to pound out of my chest. With great effort, I pushed the traumatic memories back into the tin box I kept them locked in. They were so fresh even after all this time, as if it had happened yesterday. I kept seeing Kevin's utterly evil and remorseless face in front of me; he was forever branded to my brain.

"I'm sorry." Schneider apologized with his back to me. He appeared to be rubbing his face in weariness. "I didn't mean to..." he trailed off. He sounded disappointed in himself.

I was about to be disappointed in him too, but I'm glad he caught himself from doing something both of us would regret.

"Don't do that again." I warned, wiping the tears from my eyes before they fell down and made an embarrassment out of me in front of him.

"I'm sorry." Schneider said again, and moved to the cell's door.

I thought he was going to walk out and leave me in this stranger's cell, but he abruptly stopped and turned around. He strode back to the bed and extended his hand for me to take.

Mildly surprised, I looked up at his face. Not a lot of people could apologize for the things they did wrong, and even fewer could move past the embarrassment and self-loathing so quickly. Yet Schneider had had the compassion and self-awareness to realize that he was going down a dead-end road and pull back before it was too late, and then stayed to show that he was truly sorry.

Seeing the apologetic sincerity in his eyes, I took his hand without hesitation. He pulled me up onto my feet with one tug. By now, my legs had stopped shaking, thank God.

"Tell me you're vaccinated," I said, reaching to gingerly wipe the bite wound on my neck.

"I think I am."

My fingers came away with some blood. "What are you, a vampire? What was that 'branding' me crap?"

"Oh, you liked it." Schneider drawled confidently. Too damn confidently. A playful smirk appeared on his face.

I was eternally glad for the change of mood, but horrified by the implication that I was a masochist of some sort who enjoyed 'love bites'. I did not!

"The hell I did!"

"Oh, yeah? Is that a phone hidden in your pants, then?"

Startled, I looked down to see the tent in the front of my uniform pants.

What the fuck!

When did that happen?!

Upon seeing my horrified expression, Schneider threw back his head and laughed.

"I am not turned on!" I protested vehemently. Schneider kept laughing, seemingly infinitely amused by my body's unexplainable reaction. "Stop laughing, would you? This doesn't mean anything! The blood probably rushed there in the heat of the moment. Hey, where are you going? I'm talking to you! Hey-!"

I rushed out of the cell right after Schneider, determined to make him believe that I didn't get an erection because I was excited by his bite.

****

Neither of us ended up going to the guard room today. Schneider dropped me off at my cell, mentioned something about having lunch be brought to me, and apologized a third time.

As he turned around to leave, I asked, "Are you going to the guard room?"

"No."

"How do I know you're not lying to me to get me to stay?"

"You don't."

And with that, he was gone.

I supposed it was for the best that I didn't follow him this time. Truthfully, I should have apologized too for the way I acted all bratty and suspicious. I'd been too hung up on being called 'Schneider's property' by those ignorant inmates, and I'd let it get to my head. What did I care what everybody else thought of me and my relationship to Schneider? For the time being, being dubbed his bitch was keeping me safe. I should take that and shut up instead of trying to antagonize Schneider and suspect his motives for helping me.

I lay down on my bunk and stared up at the upper bunk's underside, waiting for my lunch to be brought. All the drama had made me hungry.

If it weren't for Schneider, I wouldn't be here waiting for my food like it was room service in a hotel. I'd be out there with the rest of the inmates, lining up for a meal that most definitely wasn't gourmet.

I decided that I'd apologize for the way I behaved the next time I saw him, and I'd start showing him some gratitude while I was at it.

The sound of shuffling feet at the cell's door drew my attention. I looked up to see a hooded figure. He was wearing the prison's orange uniform, but he had a gray hoodie jacket thrown over it. His face was concealed by the hoodie. In his hands was the tray of food Schneider told me to expect.

Wordlessly, he bent down, placed it on the ground and slid it into the cell through the small space meant for food trays.

"Thanks." I said, getting up to collect the tray.

When I looked up, he was gone.

I sat down on the desk and opened the tray, eager to see what delicious dishes were made for me.

On top of the grilled chicken was a note.

Frowning, I picked it up and read it. It said:

He set you up.

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

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