The Cage (Book 2)

Noteworthy

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Chapter 21 - Noteworthy

I hesitantly accepted the breakfast tray from the kitchen worker delivering my food, flashed him a grateful smile that was completely ignored, and set the tray on the desk.

I hesitated before opening the tray.

What if there was another ominous note inside?

As soon as I opened the tray and saw the delicious breakfast laid neatly in the tiny compartments, I discovered that I didn't really feel like eating, even though I'd barely touched yesterday's dinner. I closed the tray and pushed it away.

Making sure the worker was gone and there was no-one spying on me, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the small, crumpled piece of paper. I spread it open on the desk and stared at it with a growing sense of unease, careful to hide it from the camera by the door.

He set you up, the hastily-scrawled note said.

Two questions immediately popped into mind when I first read it: Who set me up? And how exactly was I set up?

Was the note warning him about the guards setting me up to land in prison for Kevin's death? Or did they mean someone else since that was pretty much old news?

I felt a sinking feeling in my gut as a guess of who the note could mean leapt into his mind.

Schneider.

My heart squeezed.

Who else could the anonymous sender mean? Who else in my direct vicinity was noteworthy -literally? But the mere thought of it being true made me sick to my stomach. The notion of Schneider setting me up, somehow having something to do with Kevin's attack on me... It sickened me.

Surely not, I thought in disbelief. I can't immediately believe a note with no proof.

Who put the note in my tray, anyway?

I'd seen nothing of the hooded figure's face. I couldn't even remember how tall or wide he was; I was ashamed to confess that I was too distracted by the tray of food he was delivering to make note of anything significant about him.

Why was this mysterious person going to such measures to warn me, leaving a secret note in my dinner box and all before practically evaporating into thin air? Out of the goodness of his heart? In a place like this? Highly unlikely. But what did he have to gain from doing this? It wasn't like they bargained for the information in the message. It wasn't like they left something like: If you want to know who set you up, do X.

Or was I thinking too much into this? Maybe this was nothing more but a sorry excuse for a prank, meant to coerce me into overthinking things and exhaust me.

The vagueness of the note annoyed me just as much as it worried me.

This was the worst fortune cookie ever.

****

"What's wrong?"

I looked up from the film I wasn't really watching and saw that Schneider was eyeing me with slight concern. Had he just spoken to me? "Hmm?"

"You're awfully quiet." Schneider said, his eyes narrowing slightly.

For some reason, he'd come to read a book in my cell, propping himself in the desk's chair as if he owned it. When he'd opened his book to read from it, I glanced at the cover to see that it was the fifth book in The Witcher series. I wouldn't have pegged Schneider for a fantasy and fiction fan, but that just showed how much I knew about him. Or how little, to be precise.

"Are you alright? Usually you're full of questions," he explained. From the way he was looking at me, it felt like he was trying to read my mind, his piercing gaze unnerving.

I felt the weight of the crumpled note in my pocket as if it were an anchor.

"I'm... tired." It was not a lie. It was a half-truth. I was tired from all the stressing and overthinking I'd done all morning and afternoon.

"Want to hit the showers and freshen up?"

The memory of how... intimate our last shower together had gotten slammed into my brain with the force of a sledgehammer, knocking the breath out of my lungs in a strangled exhale. My pulse quickened as a result.

"No." I said a little too forcefully.

Schneider arched an eyebrow at me inquisitively.

As much as I... was intrigued by the raw emotions this criminal elicited in me whenever he was in close proximity, I was terrified that he'd somehow find out about the note.

What if the worst happened and my suspicions were correct? What if I'd really been set up by none other than Schneider, my self-declared protector?

Until I was certain of his innocence, or lack thereof, I couldn't tell Schneider what was really bothering me or let him find the note.

"Maybe later. I want to finish the movie." I quickly added.

After a moment of silent staring, Schneider nodded in understanding. Only when his sharp gray gaze dropped down to his book again did my breathing return to normal.

Thank God he didn't press the matter further. I might have crumbled under pressure.

After this, the silence between us was heavy.

Halfway through the movie, Schneider broke the silence by slamming his book shut, startling me.

My eyes flew to him like a skeptical bird's. So much for playing it cool.

Our eyes met.

"Want to go outside?"

"Outside?" I asked carefully, brows knitting together. Outside as in the prison courtyard?

Schneider smiled, a beautiful glint in his eyes. "Outside these walls. Outside this prison." 

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

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