Page 40 of Caged In

Izz closes his eyes to the familiar voice sleazing upbehind him, the voice he dreads hearing.

Why couldn’t Levis have been sick—literally anywhere else other than here. Izz cautiouslyturns, facing the beefy man, whose arms are crossed over a wide chest. Inspecting him like a disapproving boss who can’t figure out why their employeeis skipping work.

I’m sure if you think on that one real hard, you’ll figure out why I wasn’t here.Izz rants angrily in his head. Too nervousto speak any of it out loud.

“Sorry, I wasn’t feeling the best,” Izz mutters. Wishing he could disappear, “I’m still not feeling well but the guard didn’t give me a choice, I had to come here.”

Izz flinches when Levis reaches out. Not sure what to expect but completely taken off guard when the servertouches his forehead. Like someone would do to a sick child. It’sstrange. Leaving him standing there like a stunned fish.

“You do feel a little warm,” Levis informs Izz, letting his fingertips linger on Izz’s skin before droppinghis hand away.Not stepping back to give Izzroom to breathe. “I’ll keep you on light duties today, Sugar. You can do a run down on what we have for the dinner supplies, make sure it’s in order for meal prep.”

Levis amblesoff to yell at a few inmates about stirring their pots correctly—something along the lines of smelling burning, and not letting it stick to the bottom.

He zones out, allowing the yelling to waft to the back of his mind—or rather, the boss screaming at other inmates while they bow their heads in shame. Either way, Izz lets it sift out of his immediate consideration to become a background noise he ignores.

Collecting the clipboard hangingon the wall outside the pantryroom’s door, he reads down the list of items required for dinner prep. There are a lot of products on the list. All in bulk quantities.

This is going to take a while.

~~~

He’s still counting and ticking off the list as the sounds of lunch wrapping up reach his ears—

Panic seeps into his bones, his heart rabbiting as his ears strain at the voices outside the pantry. Listeningfor one voice in particular. . .

Izz can’t hear Levis in the kitchen, he takes the opportunity to make good his escape. Fumblingthe clipboard back into its holder. Swiftlyrushing out of the kitchen.

Darting through the double doors at the kitchen’s exit, he’ll have to take the long way back to his cell. It’ll be worth the extra exerciseto avoid being spotted by Levis who is serving the last few inmates standing at the food bar.

He’s sure someone’s following him back to his cell. Checking over his shoulder every ten seconds, his paranoid mind expects to see Levis around every corner or standing right behind him.

He’s more jumpy than he has ever been in this cage. And he’s more alone than he has ever been. With Reni and Zidie in The Hole, he is left to fend for himself in the carnivorousgeneral population.

He sighs with relief when he reaches his cell. Rushing into the barred room like the place is his own personal prison. His protective bubble where no bad can ever breach its threshold.

He’s too depressed, and anxious to worry when he finds more snacks on his bunk. A packet of chips, and some other food itemswhich are extremely appealing to his starving stomach.

He kicks out his fearfulthoughts. The who, why and how questions surrounding the food are not welcome. He can worry about it later. Right now, he’s hungry and this is edible. He will take it and enjoy it. Without thinking about who put it here and why. He doesn’t want to think about the consequences for him to accept the snacks. He will forget his fears and drown his stresses in the sugar-filled snacks he’s been gifted.

Let the worries wash over you, Izz. You can stress over the consequences at a later date.His inner voice instructs.

13

Izz walks to the kitchen of his own free will, not out of any sense of duty or obligation. No. It was due to a guard spotting him, he had watched the expression on the guard’s face tighten to one of annoyance. He had hoped the guard didn’t know he was supposed to be in the kitchen. The way the guard’s expression shifted, flattening out into a snarl informed Izz that this guard knew exactly where he was supposed to be. He had turned tail and made his way to the kitchen, much to his displeasure, and the guard’s delight.

The cooking is already finishing, the last of the meals dished out into serving trays. He’s thrilled to discover the prep work is completed. Levis is always serving, which means Izz can hide in the back rooms of the kitchen, avoiding the dirty pervert boss until he’s sure he can sneak off without a guard catching him.

“Hey, Sugar, where’d you duck off to after lunch?”

He’s never so lucky. This cage is cursed, and he has the worst luck. The one inmate in this place he had been praying to avoid walks out from behind the shelves.

“You know you can’t get away with not helping in the clean-up,” Levis smirks, leaning casually into Izz’s personal space. “But I’m willing to let you off with a warning if you . . . apologise to me . . . very . . . very . . . nicely.”

Levis’s hand slides over Izz’s ass, fingers brushing under his shirt. Brushing the skin of his stomach. He grits his teeth, about to erupt and do something he has never done before.

Punch a person in the face.

He’s a virgin when it comes to punching people. With everything that’s happened to him in this Hell-hole, he’s impressedwith himself for not losing it and lashing out sooner.

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