Page 102 of Caged In

Please don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead.

“I-I-I w-wasn’t—”

He skids, nearly colliding with the wall as he overshoots the corner. His eyes locking on the scene before him—as he braces his hand on the wall to steel himself—his lungs and legs threatening to give out.

Vince is pinned against the bars of one of the cells in a suspiciously empty C-Wing, his feet dangling off the floor. Sin holding him aloft by the throat, gripping his neck tightly. Vince’s eyes are bulging from their sockets and his face is bright red, and deepening in colour by the second.

“Save it. We all know you were. I don’t kill for hire—I don’t kill, at all. There is no evidence. No proof. And there never will be.”

Izz’s frozen.

As he watches Vince struggling to free himself. Watches the inmate desperately pushing at Sin. His pathetic attempts tobreak free becoming weaker and weaker. All Izz can do is stand there, his eyes wide, praying for Sin to let the other inmate go. Incapable of voicing it, his throat too dry to form the words he desperately wants to say.

“Keep away from Izz,” Sin snarls, leaning closer to Vince’s face, “and you and I won’t have a problem that needs . . . solving . . . Understood.”

Through his choking and whimpering, Vince drops his head slightly, nodding. Unable to utter a verbal reply. His lips are changing colour, growing an unnatural blue tint.

Sin steps back, and Vince hits the floor. Gasping and wheezing. Choking on air. His face a deep red to match his equally red neck.

Izz still can’t speak, he wants to do something—anything. But he’s stuck. Unable to move. Trapped in his own body . . . Frozen. This would get him killed—if he was an animal, seizing up in the face of danger.

Sinn'ous doesn’t look Izz’s way. He doesn’t acknowledge Izz in the slightest. Merely saunters off in the opposite direction. His head held high, his shoulders rolling with every step.

Sinn'ous doesn’t look back.

Before Izz has a chance to find his voice and call out, Sinn'ous is disappearing behind the far row of cells. And Vince is staggering to his feet, using the cell’s bars—catching Izz’s attention.

“Are you okay?” Stupid question to ask someone who was almost asphyxiated by a serial killer.

Vince holds his hand out, as if he wants to fend Izz off. “Leave—”

Another violent coughing fit engulfs Vince. The feminine inmate sliding back down to the floor, gripping the bars for dear life as he hunches over on the ground.

Izz reaches forward to try to assist Vince. “Let me help—”

The cute inmate shies away. Keeping out of reach, avoiding Izz’s hands. “Leave.”

“But I—”

“Please,” Vince’s voice is straining to form the words. His rasping tone cut off with wheezing noises.

Izz hugs his arms around his middle. All he wants is to help. To tell Vince he’s sorry. Instead, he swivels away. Sprinting from the man he almost got killed. So he won’t cry in front of them. His eyes prickling with unshed tears.

He hadn’t meant to cause anyone to be hurt. He never wanted Vince to be attacked. Or any of the others . . .

Why is this place filled with so much violence?

So much death . . .

Izz doesn’t stop running until he finds himself back in Sinn'ous’s cell. He hadn’t consciously thought about coming here and his legs are too weak to carry him anywhere else—he lets them collapse. Falling onto the empty bunk. Hugging the pillow to his chest.

Where did Sinn'ous go? Why isn’t he here?

Is he angry at me?

Is it me? Am I so broken I bring death to everyone?

All he’s done since he arrived is make a mess out of everything. Get his friends thrown in The Hole. Get people killed. . . And . . . He’d murdered too . . . A guard who will never go home to their family . . .

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