Page 71 of Caged In

He decides to let the subject drop. He doesn’t want to know, he has enough on his plate, he doesn’t need to add more to it.

“The cards were a Godsend, I was going stir crazy. But my cellmate’s a terrible cheat, so there was that.”

Sinn'ous’s eyes narrow ever so slightly at the remark. “He didn’t cheat you out of anything—”

“No, no. Nothing like that. We weren’t gambling with anything, just messing around.” Considering everyone else who’s done anything to Izz has been killed, he’s not about to say anything bad regarding his cellmate. He has zero proof Sinn'ous murdered all those inmates . . . It could be a coincidence . . . couldn’t it?

The inmates who attacked him in the corridor were killed and no one could figure out how or why. And there was Levis’s death after he was an asshole to Izz. If vomit-dragon tattoo—or is it a snake? It’s hard to tell what the tattoo is supposed to be—turns up dead with his slimy friend, Izz will be sure Sinn'ous had something to do with it. If he hadn’t killed them himself, then hehired someone to do it. He doubts Sinn'ous would hire someone to do the deed. It isn’t something serial killers do. Is it?

“Very well,” Sinn'ous relaxes against the wall, his scowl disappearing from his face.

“You going to shower too? Or just stand there staring at me.”

That earns him a devilish smirk from the male. Who deliberately runs his dark eyes down Izz’s body, making a show of it. Izz manages to suppress his own grin, turning his face up into the spray to keep it at bay. He doesn’t want others seeing him grinning at a serial killer, while naked in the showers. Not a reputation he wants.

“I missed my birthday,” Izz mutters, while deliberately not looking over at Sinn'ous. “I overheard some guards on my way here. They mentioned it’s the ninth today. I wish I could have seen my sister on my birthday. First one I’ve had since she was born where she hasn’t been with me.”

Why is he talking about this? To—arguably—a stranger.

He feels obliged to talk, and not stand in silence while showering next to the other. Izz also, kind of, maybe, wants Sinn'ous to know when his birthday is. He’s very aware how much of an idiot it makes him.

“When was it.”

“The sixth.” Izz peeks through the water’s clear flow, trying to catch a glimpse of how the other is reacting—without catching water droplets to the eyes.

“You’re what, twenty.”

Doesn’t particularly sound like a question. Does Sinn'ous already know? Search Izz’s criminal records or something? Sounds like he has been stalked. Should he be terrified, or ecstatic, that Sinn'ous wants to know him?

Perhaps the serial killer is doing their research on their next victim—

Stop. Izz fights off his invasive inner thoughts. His paranoia is not welcome here.

“Yes. How old are you?” Izz’s on a roll now with the information sharing so why stop.

“Twenty-eight,” Sinn'ous answers off-handedly, as if he doesn’t care, doesn’t understand why it’s important for Izz to know, but will indulge Izz anyway.

He’s not sure why he needs to know either. It isn’t really important. Especially considering he’s supposed to be staying away from the dangerous inmate. According to everyone else at least. Izz’s not sure about staying away from him. Isn’t sure the male is actually a threat.

The entire prison fears him . . .

“How long have you been here?”

Maybe Sinn'ous has lived here for years and years and that’s why the rest of the prison is terrified. Because Sinn'ous has built a reputation over the past decade, and rumours have been spread and changed. As it went with word-of-mouth stories, each person adding details or leaving things out, morphing and changing the stories until they become unrecognisable. Maybe Sinn'ous is misunderstood, the rumours faked because of the Satanic nature of his cell.

“Since last year.”

Well, there goes that theory right out the window.

“Oh, the way everyone acts I just assumed you’d been here for years.” Izz pushes his wet hair back off his face, annoyed it’s clinging to his skin.

I’d hoped you’d been here for years, that way I could justify hanging around you when everyone tells me, no.

Why does he trust this male as much as he does? Someone who can be in prison for such a short time and have the entire place cowering in the corner isn’t someone a sane person would stand comfortably next to—while naked.

“They’re terrified of you. Everyone told me to stay as far away from you as possible. And never be anywhere alone with you.”

Good to see I listened.

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