Caged In (Caged Prison #1)

37

Turns out, whatever pills the nurse gave him are the pick-me-up he needs. Izz’s raring and ready to go. Or, more like, not in pain and able to function properly.

He arranged with Sin to have lunch together, so he can talk to Reni alone and he also wants to beat Zidie in The Gang’s card games. He was so close to achieving it last time. He knows he can do it. He wants the gloating points.

“Hey,” Izz greets his friend as he emerges from Med-Wing’s doors. He isn’t sure where to start in his explanation.

“Are you alright? They cleared you to leave?” Reni’s mother bird is firing up and fretting over Izz, circling him to check he has all his parts attached.

“It wasn’t that bad.” At Reni’s sceptical look, Izz adds, “I only needed a handful of stitches.”

“I’m going to kill him. Why did he—”

“Stop. It was consensual. I had the choice to stop it at any time. I liked it, okay,” and Izz does enjoy it. He wouldn’t take any of it back. It’s an experience he’s never been through and one he wants to do again.

And again.

Just thinking about it is getting him hard. He hopes his friend doesn’t notice his pants tenting. If Reni does, he doesn’t mention it as they slowly make their way to the Rec-Room.

“What do you mean you liked it. Is that what he’s got you thinking?”

How to explain it to Reni . . . without coming across like a crazy person . . . “You know how Sinj is into all kinds of weird sex things—”

“Yeah, but that’s Sinj, he’s wacked and a masochist—ohhhhh . . .” Reni’s voice trails off as what Izz’s hinting sinks in.

“Mm-hmm,” Izz hums, a little embarrassed having to explain his newfound kink enjoyments with his friend. He fears being judged harshly for it, “I’ve figured out I’m one too.”

Izz doesn’t understand it. But it turns him on when he has a blade against his skin. Threatening, pressing up against his throat. Cutting him . . .

“Oh,” Reni mulls over Izz’s disclosed claims. Walking in silence for a time as they edge their way through the corridors to their destination. “You’re careful with it? He stops if you ask?”

“He gave me a safe word and everything. It’s consensual. Trust me.” Izz holds his hands out in a reassuring gesture. Trying to convey to his friend that he’s one hundred percent cool with what went on between him and Sin.

“Alright. But if he steps out of line, scary motherfucker or not, I will mess him up. Even if I die in the process, I will make him hurt.”

Izz laughs. Nudging his friend playfully. “Thanks. You know. For having my back since I got here.”

“Don’t mention it. It’s what friends do.”

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 . . .

His smile threatens to split his cheeks in half it’s so wide. He grabs Sin’s eyes with his own and flicks his chin at the chair. Watching the male raise a brow in question.

Sin prowls over and slumps into the empty chair. If The Gang wasn’t tense before, they sure are now. All of them stiffening when they realise who just sat down.

Izz makes a point of looking every single one of them in the eye, before stopping on Sin. Who has questions written in his black eyes, but doesn’t voice any of them, “I choose if we fuck, yes?”

He can feel the entire table stop breathing. You could cut the air with a butter knife with the amount of tension thats in it.

Izz’s been around Sin enough to see he’s intrigued by this line of questioning and the events unfolding. Amusement lingering in his eyes, his lack of facial expressions giving nothing away.

“You do,” Sin’s eyes stay locked on Izz, ignoring the rest of them.

“You’d protect me? Even if I told you right now that I don’t want to fuck, ever again.”

He watches the faint smirk pick up the side of Sin’s lips, a barely noticeable change in his static expression. Sin’s caught onto what Izz’s doing.

Sin’s leg brushes Izz’s as he leans back in the flimsy chair, crossing his arms over his chest, “why would I be so shallow as to exchange sex for protection. Only a naive fool would think that way.”

Izz can’t hold in his amusement. Waggling his eyebrows at The Gang, who are staring with wide eyes. A real I-told-you-so smirk spreading over his face. He has to bite his cheeks to stop the laugh bubbling up in his throat from escaping.

“As much as this consent conversation has been thrilling,” Sin states dryly. “I’m getting food. You coming.” Izz can tell Sin’s not asking a question, and is only framing it in such a way for the table’s benefit.

Izz follows suit as Sin rises to his full height, his aura of power coating the air around him as he strides back out of the room, with a jittery Izz hot on his trail.

Izz practically skips down the corridor. His body light. His mind clear. He’s better than ever. With zero aches or pains.

“Care to share what your little stunt was all about,” Sin grips Izz’s elbow to still the jumping movements. Corralling Izz to his side to avoid colliding with a wall.

“They think I’m gullible and being manipulated by you into sexual acts I don’t want to do,” Izz frowns, staring at his elbow, wondering why Sin has grabbed him.

“You seemed pretty fond of what I was doing to you,” Sin states, releasing Izz’s arm.

Izz steps in closer to Sin, leaning on the male as they walk down the corridor together. Ignoring the side glances he receives from passing inmates.

“Oh, I am,” Izz sticks his hand into Sin’s pocket, earning himself a weird look from Sin—cross between puzzlement and amusement. “And I want to do them again. The guys were being dicks about it, that’s all. And no, you can’t kill them.”

At that, Sin chuckles, “wasn’t planning on it.”

“Oh please,” he draws out the last word, voice dripping with sarcasm. “As if you wouldn’t spontaneously kill someone.” Izz rolls his eyes, muttering under his breath, “making out like you need a plan.”

Izz stumbles as he trips on something. His shoe? The floor? Air? Who knows.

“I think those drugs you took are working,” Sin advises softly. Redirecting Izz from walking right past the cafeteria doors.

“What? Why? What makes you say that?” He feels fine. Completely normal. No pain or nothing.

Sin raises a brow, lightly shoving Izz towards the doors when he stops moving. Encouraging him without words to continue. So he does. But not before waving a hand in Sin’s face, dismissing the mohawked male.

“Pfff. They are not. I’m completely normal.”

Totally normal.

Drugs or no drugs, he’s as he always is . . . Is. Is . . . ?

What was I thinking about again?

“Indeed,” Sin states flatly.