The Prison (Book 1)

Betrayed

Betrayed

"Aiden."

I sat with my legs crossed on the couch and controller in hand facing the 52-inch TV mounted on the wall, and I was so deep in concentration that my tongue was sticking out a corner of my mouth. How could I not be? The new Crash Bandicoot required the highest level of concentration. One wrong move and I'd have to repeat the whole level. I'd already failed about 99 times and this had to be my 100th attempt. There was no way I was going to fail.

"Aiden."

Crash touched one of those crawling turtle thingies and lost a few life points. "Shit, shit, shit." One more hit and it was game over. Again!

"Aiden, are you-"

I managed to make it to the next set of obstacles when a treacherous flame wiped me out and sent my plummeting into the abyss.

"For fuck's sake, that's not fair!"

"Aiden-!" Cain seized me by the chin and forced me to look at him. "You will answer me when I call you." I could clearly hear the "Or else in his voice."

"What do you want?" I said testily and tried to pull my face away from his grasp, from his intense glare, but it only tightened.

"It's time for dinner."

"I'm not hungry."

"I was not asking." He grabbed the controller from my hand and tossed it aside.

"Hey, you've already broken the other one!"

"Then do not constantly refuse to obey me so I don't break this one too. Dinner. Is. Served."

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me up effortlessly onto my feet in one swift move. I started to protest, but he pinned me with a dark gaze that immediately and effectively stopped my protests. Cain was not in a good mood tonight if his darkened expression and burning gaze was any indication.

It was best to do what he wanted lest I suffered the consequences of my defiance.

"Fine." I shoved off him and went to the kitchen where the large dinner table sat.

As usual, while Cain sat at the head of the table, I sat on the opposite side, the farthest from him. Cain had a thing for eating by candlelight. He'd dimmed all the lights in the kitchen and, like every night since my capture, had two lit candelabras placed strategically on the table, as well as the finest silver cutlery and the most luxurious-looking dinner plates. I looked down at my plate. Damn it. It was something lovely again. Cain had proved his culinary prowess once again; the smell alone made my mouth water. Medium-well T-bone steak, mashed potatoes and steamed vegetables.

Schneizel's favorite.

My mouth instantly went dry at the memory of me devouring Schneizel's steak, mash and veggies on the first day of prison, mistaking it for mine. If I had been anybody else, Schneizel would have pulverized me.

Who would have thought that I would ever look back at The Prison from Hell fondly? Certainly not the me from a year ago.

"What's the matter? You do not like steak?"

"No... it's fine." My stomach growled. I hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast, and it was the only reason why I picked up the fork and steak knife and managed to force down a few bites before my throat constricted... with unshed tears. I grabbed the glass of bourbon and threw it down, hoping that the burn would un-constrict my airways.

I pushed the chair back, ready to get back.

"You haven't finished your plate."

"I'm full. Thanks for the meal." I rose and headed to my room.