Page 118 of Caged In

They walk in silence the rest of the way to the Rec-Room. Izz’s mind wandering back to Sin’s cell. To the bunk, and the . . . activities they do on it—

“You self-harming?” Zidie blatantly asks, as soon as Izz walks through the door to The Gang’s table.

“No,” Izz bristles, sitting in one of the empty chairs. He hates prison in this way, there are no secrets kept in this cage. Everyone knows everyone’s business. Especially the stuff you want to stay hidden.

“You sure?” Blake enquires, like he doesn’t believe Izz for a second.

Izz slumps a little in his chair, waiting for the game to end so he can be dealt in and have something to occupy his hands . . . and his mind.

“Yes, I’m sure” Izz snaps, irritated with both of them. He would prefer not to talk about his sexual activities, thank you very much.

He receives a scrutinising look from everyone at the table . . . Speaking of everyone, David isn’t among them. Perhaps the inmate died on the way here? He doesn’t want anyone to die but if he has to daydream about someone hitting the gravestone early, it will be David.

No, he doesn’t actually want the man to die. He just doesn’t like him. At all—

He’s definitely still holding a grudge. He isn’t sure why. David has long ago eaten his words. The Gang is rapidly becoming the most feared among the prison population. No actual prison gangs mess with any of them. For fear of the repercussions they will face. With Sin in their corner no one bothers them.

Might also have something to do with the rapidly decreasing number of creeps in here—the creeps who touch Izz. He’s sure some of the men in here have done things he does not want to know about.

The Gang’s judging Izz, their sceptical looks boring into him. Their game on pause until they hear all the gossip from him. Not satisfied with a vague answer.

He sighs dramatically, deciding it’s not worth the fight. “Sinn'ous was careless. He went a little too deep with a blade, I needed a few stitches in my side. No big deal.”

Can you all drop it now, and get back to focusing on the cards.

“Your shirt has a lot of blood on it for ‘no big deal’,” Zidie points out, with nods of agreement from all around the table.

“I know,” Izz mutters. Maybe he should head back to his cell. They’re all way too nosy for their own good. He should have seen it coming.

“Apparently he’s into it,” Reni takes it upon himself to share the details, “says he is anyway. I think that serial killer is messing with his head. Manipulating him—”

“Sin has never forced me to do anything I don’t want to do. It’s my choice.” Why can’t they respect his decision? Why does it have to be him getting manipulated?

I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions.

Blake rests his hand on Izz’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You shouldn’t let him do that to you,” his older brother vibes coating his entire demeanour.

“Like he has a choice,” Isco butts in. Re-stacking the cards to shuffle out a new game, after everyone abandoned their cards in favour of focusing on Izz and the latest gossip.

“It’s consensual,” Izz all but yells, other inmates in the room turning to look their way. Dropping his voice back to a reasonable level he adds, “and it’s really none of your business—”

Isco cuts in, deep voice rasping right over Izz’s building annoyance like Izz hasn’t said a thing, “with his protection being the motivator.”

“No,” Izz protests, trying to defend Sin, “it isn’t like that.”

He has a choice. He’s not under duress. Or scared of Sin and doing it out of fear the male will be angry. He does it because it feels good. He likes it. Likes the way Sin treats him. The way his heart flutters when he’s under Sin’s thickly muscled body, looking up into his dark eyes . . .

“Nobody judges you,” Sinj interjects, smiling warmly at Izz. “It’s a reasonable motivation. Hell, I do it all the time to get things.”

“He doesn’t give his protection for that. He’d protect me either way,” Izz knows Sin, knows he’s safe, he’s respected, he’s cherished.

Sinj shrugs nonchalantly. Unbothered either way. Why can’t the rest of The Gang be as carefree about it? Instead of the judgement coming off them. The pity. As though Izz’s trapped in a predicament he can’t escape.

He’s grateful when The Gang lets the subject drop. Isco dishing out cards. Games firing up. Izz’s losing rapidly faster each round. His mind not in the games. He can’t concentrate, their conversation on repeat in his mind. Swirling around his skull.

He’s glad when Sin shows up. The male appearing in the Rec-Room’s doorway. Meaning lunch is just around the corner. It also gives him an idea . . .

He’s the only one facing the door. The rest of The Gang hasn’t noticed Sin entering the room. And there is a seat right next to him . . .

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