The Prison (Book 1)

Knock on the Door

Knock on the Door

Cade's P.O.V

I finally found Schneizel in the farthest corner of the deserted library. I'd spent what had to be an entire hour searching for him from cell to cell, block to block. I should have figured he'd be here; he'd taken to seclusion lately and it was lunch time now, which meant that not even the most devoted bookworm would be in here.

He sat on the floor leaning against a bookshelf, an open book in his lap and a bottle of half-empty Bourbon by his side. A few days' growth of beard shadowed his jaw, and his hair was longer than how he usually preferred it. Schneizel wasn't doing much reading; his eyes were focused on the roof and his expression was vacant, seemingly deep in thought. There was no question in my mind who he was thinking about.

Since Aiden's departure, Schneizel had become a changed man. Rather, he was half the man he usually was. One could say he was distracted. No one managed to hold his attention for too long; another individual seemed to fully occupy his mind 24/7. When his brother, Schneider, offered to take charge for a little while, Schneizel was only too happy to slink back into the shadows and, for a lack of a better word, sulk.

I hated seeing him like this, so... depressed. It wasn't like him at all, and it weighed heavily on my conscious -not that there was much I could do. Still, I felt like I should be doing something. Like maybe patting his back.

Unfortunately, the news I was about to deliver wasn't going to make him feel any happier. If anything... I shuddered to think what this would do to him, how it would spur him.

Sighing, I came to stand in front of him. I got straight to the point; I'd wasted enough time as it was and a part of me was afraid that it was too late. "Our enemies got wind of Aiden's existence."

That got his attention. Instantly, Schneizel's eyes flew to me. His suddenly obsidian eyes bore into mine. I felt a tingling at the base of my spine followed by a shudder that travelled up and down my back.

Oh, I'd piqued his interest in the worst way possible.

"Which enemy?" His voice when he spoke was steel and iron, hard and cold. A storm accompanied by lightning and thunder brewed and rumbled within him in a matter of milliseconds, awaiting the moment of its unleashing. And unleash it will, for Schneizel valued what was his more than anything, and among his many possessions, Aiden was the crown jewel. Only a genuine fool would dare to cross Schneizel when he was in this state.

"Jimmy "Lucky" Walsh."

"Those fucking Irish." He was on his feet in an instant, the book falling out of his lap. Darkly, he demanded, "How did they find out about him?"

I shrugged. "Someone probably squeaked."

"You will find out who and feed them their heart."

I nodded without question. "So, what's the plan?"

"Arrange for the bus."

We left the library, both the book and drink forgotten.

****

Aiden's P.O.V

I sighed into my drink, making bubbles pop, the moment the embarrassing memory surfaced in my mind again. I bit the plastic cup hard enough to rip out a chunk and groaned loudly past the red wine. I would never be able to live this down. Ever.

What had possessed me to think that Jason was Schneizel? Had I been so drunk that I'd hallucinated Jason being Schneizel? How utterly pathetic. And I just had to go and embarrass Jason by saying Schneizel's name out loud! Even though he'd clearly been humiliated and a little upset, he'd dismissed the incident and excused himself, saying that I was probably tired and needed some rest, and that he'd see me some other day.

I honestly doubted he'd ever call again, even though we'd exchanged numbers.

I set the cup back on the table and stared into the dark liquid. Schneizel's face reappeared in it. My vision clouded and I sniffled, feeling the familiar tight ache in my chest. A shuddering sob raked my body. I rested my head in my hands and allowed myself to cry. I wasn't sure how long I cried when the sound of a doorbell echoed in the spacious apartment.

Could it be Jason? I hoped it was; I desperately needed to apologize to him.

I was in front of the apartment's door in an instant. I pulled the door open, "Jason, I need to- Wait, who are you?"

A fist caught me in the stomach out of nowhere. It knocked the air right out of my lungs and I doubled over, gasping for air. A large hand sank into my hair and raised my head. I struggled, but two men I hadn't noticed -or hadn't had the opportunity to notice before being attacked- grabbed me by the arms and kept them firmly behind me. Unfamiliar green eyes met my swollen ones. I saw only darkness in them, the kind that people often stayed well away from lest it consumed them.

"What the hell are you doing?!" I gasped, my initial shock at being attacked at my own homestead giving way to fear.

Fear, clawing and repugnant, emanated from me in waves. And he smelled it, whoever he was. I could see that it gave him immense pleasure to know that I was fearful of him. I was ashamed to admit that I quaked and my bladder squeezed dangerously; I no longer had Schneizel to help me out and come to my rescue in situations like these.

I was on my own.

The man who'd punched me brushed a tear that still lingered on my cheeks with his thumb and brought it to his lips. I saw his tongue dart out and lick it.

An entirely new fear manifested within me.

Who the hell were these people, and what the fuck did the plan to do with me?

Once I caught my breath -the powerful punch had left me winded for some time- I demanded, "What do you want with-?"

Flames erupted on one side of my face as a ringing sound ricocheted off the walls of my semi-empty apartment. I cried out, startled and terrified by the sheer violence of the backhand. The tears that streamed down the right side of my face did nothing to cool the pulsating pain, in fact, they made my cheek sting.

"You will not speak unless spoken to, boy." The man with the green eyes said, calm and collected. One would think that he was discussing breakfast.

I glanced over my shoulders at the two lackeys on either side of me, wanting to see their faces.

"Hey, stay still and keep your head down!" One of them caught me staring and pushed my head down into my chest before I could really see anything.

"Ugh!" He pushed my head so forcefully, it felt like I got whiplash.

They didn't want me seeing -and remembering- faces, but I'd already seen enough. My blood ran cold the moment I did. Thanks to the face tattoo, I recognized one of them as my stalker. 

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

I took my second Covid shot yesterday and the fever I got was something else. Reminded me of when I actually had Covid. I feel cheated that me actually getting Covid before didn't make this shot a bit more manageable. :( Can Covid end please? It's getting on my last damn nerve. It's ruined and slowed down more plans for me than I can count.

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