The Cage (Book 2)

Come For Me

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Come For Me

When Schneider didn't come for me, I started to panic.

A full day passed without any sign of him.

Something had to have happened to him, I was certain of it. There was absolutely no way he'd leave me here to rot. No way. Not him. And surely whatever kept someone like Schneider, the King of the Prison From Hell, from coming for me had to be something serious, something bad.

With nothing but time in my hands, I was left to be torn apart by my demons as I worried over Schneider. Worry quickly turned to alarm.

I nibbled on my nails, tearing nail and dry skin alike, as I imagined terrible after terrible scenario of what could have kept him from me. Was he injured? Or worse?

Was it possible that he didn't know I was here?

Impossible. The news would have reached someone who was dubbed the king.

And then alarm gave way to suspicion.

Or... was it possible he'd really left me here?

I banished the thought as soon as it reared its ugly head in my mind.

After what we'd done together, after I'd given him myself, I refused to believe he'd leave me like this, without so much as a fare thee well.

And then panic turned to despair. I'd known him less than a few months, but I'd grown attached despite my best judgment.

The sound of shuffling footsteps outside my cell's door alerted me to a guard's presence.

Tense, I waited.

"Food!" A gruff voice on the other side of the iron door growled.

The small flap at the bottom opened. I squinted against the abrupt source of light, however small. I lived in a state of perpetual darkness on a daily basis, with the food flap opening briefly three times a day being the only time I ever saw bright light.

A steel tray was carelessly pushed in, the 'food' sloshing out from the sides staining the already dirty floor.

My face contorted into an expression of complete and utter disgust as I saw the white gunk covering the barely-edible food. The food they gave me here was worlds different from the gourmet meals I was used to thanks to Schneider, and I had to force myself to eat, but now...

A shiver of revulsion raked my spine. I'd recognize that white substance anywhere, even with so little light. Every guy did.

"What the hell?" I whispered in a shaking voice, incredulous, furious and mortified all at the same time. All of me started to shake. The constant stress and the unduly humiliation were starting to get to me.

Cracks were forming.

This was... too much.

How long before I broke?

An old life of comfort flashed before my eyes. A life of steak dinners, business class flights, chauffeur-driven town cars, a Manhattan apartment and a prestigious job.

How did I fall so low?

"Eat up, cum dump." He laughed maniacally.

The flap slammed shut and the only light in my life disappeared.

My eyes watered.

****

On the fourth day, my doubts multiplied and festered.

****

On the sixth day, my faith in him started to waver.

****

Two weeks later, I finally gave up hope. I finally broke. I wept that night.

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

Poor Julian :(

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