Ella

A few days later, in the middle of the night, the door creaks open again, and Graham pushes in an all too familiar wheelchair. I gaze through the tiny slit of my blanket as he rolls Syrena inside. I can’t stop looking at her, but he walks by so quickly I barely have a chance to properly assess her.

All I can see is her arms as they hang motionless over the edge … and the needle marks and bruises that cover her skin.

I swallow as the black door opens, and he disappears. The few seconds that pass are agonizingly slow. Her cage door opens again, and she’s rolled inside. I watch him as he places her on the bed and pulls the blankets up, pretending to care about her even when he doesn’t.

I know he’d get rid of her the second she wasn’t useful to him anymore.

But I guess it won’t take long for him to sell her to the highest bidder.

I wonder if I’m awaiting the same fate after Cage has had his fill of me.

When Graham’s gone again, I wait a few minutes to make sure he doesn’t come back before I crawl out of bed and inch closer to the glass, tapping it a few times.

She seems completely out of it and doesn’t respond, but I can clearly see the wounds on her body from this far away.

What did he do to her?

I can only imagine.

I shiver at the thought of being the one to put her through all that. It couldn’t have been easy.

Once she wakes up and realizes she’s back in here, she’ll probably break down. I can’t let her go through that alone. Not on my watch.

So I sit down in front of the glass and keep on waiting. Until morning or longer, if I have to.

Anything to prove I’m here for her now even though I let her down before.

It won’t happen again.

* * *

My eyelids have trouble staying open, and I’m fighting sleep. However, when I finally see some movement, I feel instantly invigorated. I lean up from the floor when I hear her groan.

“Fuck …” she mumbles.

I immediately get up and stare, knocking on the windows so Cage wakes up too.

“What?” he growls, rubbing his eyes.

I point at Syrena. When I open my mouth, my voice refuses to make itself heard. I don’t know why, but something feels like it’s in my throat, preventing me from talking. It must be because I’m not alone with Cage anymore.

I wait until she sits up in bed, clamping her stomach with her arms.

“Ah … I …” I mutter.

God, it’s so hard. Why does it have to be so hard to speak?

I’m fighting as hard as I can. I won’t give up. Not until she hears me. She deserves to hear these words.

“I’m …”

She turns her head at me in shock as I try to vocalize what I’m thinking.

“I’m s-s-s …” My voice is hoarse, but I persist. If I can do it with Cage, I can do it with Syrena. I trust her. “I’m … s-sorry.”

I clutch my hand near my chest and place the other one on the glass, hoping she understands. I feel terrible for what happened to her.

“It’s m-my … f-fault,” I say slowly, trying to pronounce the words right.

She groans again, clearly in pain, and it only makes me feel worse. I wish I could come close and hug her, but I can’t. I hate being stuck in here.

“I’m … s-sorry,” I repeat, hoping she can hear it.

“Don’t …” she says, her voice squeaky.

I know she must be so pissed at me, and I’ll understand if she never wants to talk to me again. After all, it’s because of me she’s in this state.

“Don’t apologize,” she mutters, catching me completely off guard.

“Wha—”

“You can talk,” she says, her lips still parted as she’s still facing the glass, trying to find me with eyes that can no longer see.

“Selective muteness,” Cage grumbles as he leans up from his bed, rubbing the back of his head. I’m surprised he remembered.

“Wow …” Syrena says, but then she cringes again, touching her stomach.

It’s weird to everyone, I guess, not just me. I don’t know why I’m suddenly capable of talking. But when Cage didn’t stop Graham from taking Syrena away, I was so mad. It just felt as if I couldn’t hold back something huge bottled up inside me for so long. And then my voice burst out of me like lava from a volcano.

However, talking isn’t important right now. What’s important is finding out what happened to Syrena.

“I …” I mutter. “What did they d-do to y-you?” I ask with great trouble. My voice isn’t a hundred percent yet, but I’ll take having one over nothing at all.

She hisses from the pain. “He gave me to another client. Said I was his gift. Only while he was here, though, because Graham didn’t let him take me with him. He’s still waiting until someone pays up for me, but in the meantime, he’ll use me as entertainment for his guests. And this one was extra vicious. Like … ow …”

“He hurt you?” Cage asks, his voice low and gravelly.

“Graham? He … used a Taser on me,” she says.

I grimace at the thought of feeling a current of electricity run through my body.

“But that man …” She shivers. “He was pure evil. I’m lucky to be alive. Lucky Graham didn’t want him to ruin something he could still sell,” she scoffs, making a fist with her hand. “Bastard.”

“I’m s-sorry,” I say again.

I know she doesn’t want to hear it, but I don’t know what else to say.

I can’t make her pain go away. I can’t stop Graham from doing this to her.

I could’ve prevented it from happening if I had only done what he wanted, though, and I didn’t. And that will always be a part of me now.

“It’s not your fault,” she says, coughing then immediately making a face again from the pain.

“I should’ve … done what h-he asked.”

“And then what?” She raises a brow. “Have sex with Cage?”

I almost break out in a sweat, thinking about that very thing.

“No, I’d never ask that from you, and it wouldn’t be fair to ever agree to something like that,” she adds.

“But …”

“No.” She purses her lips. “It’s his fault.”

Cage grimaces as he realizes she’s talking about him.

“N-no,” I say. “He c-can’t … h-help himself.”

“Really?” She folds her arms, but she doesn’t last long from the pain and immediately leans back on her bed.

“He’s a c-caged animal,” I say.

I don’t want him to feel bad, but … that’s what it is.

We’re all caged animals. Except, he’s never known any better. It’s who he is.

And I feel sorry for him.

“Doesn’t matter. It’s his dad. You can’t trust him.”

“He doesn’t k-know any better,” I say.

“If Graham opens his door, he wouldn’t even try to escape,” she scoffs. “He plays on the wrong side, Ella.”

“I don’t play on any side …” Cage barks.

“You don’t k-know that … y-yet.” I swallow.

“Well, I’m not going to wait and find out.” She perches herself against her pillow and lies down again.

She’s right, though.

We can’t wait until Cage finally does something to thwart Graham, but I don’t feel we should write him off. He’s strong. He absorbs information. He loves everything I tell him. I know it’s in him— the need to see more, and the desire for control over his own life.

And if he doesn’t want to escape, who knows, maybe he’ll become useful to us in another way … someday.

Suddenly, a beep is audible. Syrena and I both try to find the sound; she listens with her ears while I watch the door. But nothing happens.

Not there, anyway, because in our cages, the showers just turned on.

Water pours from the ceiling, and Cage pulls off his tank top and shorts, standing butt naked in the cell once again. It doesn’t even faze me anymore. I’m just impressed that he casts away his shame so easily. I wish I knew how to do that.

I wish I could just shower without feeling watched.

But I can’t.

I can’t help but stare at him, hoping I might have the courage to step underneath like he does. Because when I touch the warm water with my hand, I want nothing more than for the water to engulf me and take away the grime of the cell surrounding me.

Syrena stays in bed, mumbling, “I can’t get up. Fuck the shower. Fuck this whole place. Just fuck.”

I can’t help but snigger. I like how often she says fuck. It brings some much-needed reality back into this place.

Cage glances at me, beckoning me with just a head nudge toward the shower. I shake my head, and he nods at it again. I know I should shower when possible, but it just feels weird to undress in front of strangers. Especially in front of Cage.

He furrows his brows and sighs then turns around, facing away from me.

I don’t think it’s random, and he didn’t look upset.

He’s trying to make it easier for me.

I lick my lips and tentatively pull down my clothes, hoping he won’t notice. But he doesn’t turn around once. Not when I’m completely nude. Not when I step under the shower. Not when I look at his muscular back and ass … which is very firm, by the way.

What the hell, Ella? No.

I shake my head and allow myself to enjoy the warm water scattering on my skin. I close my eyes and transport myself back to my home, pretending I can smell the liquid soap I use. Pretending I can see the light coming from the windows, and feel the white stones on the wall. I pretend because it’s the only way to survive.

When I open my eyes again, I can clearly see Cage glance at me over his shoulder. But he immediately looks away the moment I catch him staring.

A blush spreads on my face as I cover my body with my arms, wondering what he’s thinking. If he feels the same buzzing feeling I do whenever I look at him. If he still yearns to touch me the way he did back when the door opened.

I wonder when it’ll happen again.

Last time, it was right after he showered.

The water feels hotter than before, but maybe it’s because I’m sweating. Why? Because it just dawned on me that this could be it.

This could be the exact moment Graham flips that switch.

He’s done it before … and I’m sure he’s going to do it again.

I quickly step out of the shower and dry off with a hand towel I received through the box yesterday. I put on my dress and stand in the corner, glaring at the door and walls. I wonder when he’ll come inside and tell us it’s time.

I wait and wait.

Soon the showers turn off, and Cage dries off too.

I’m still staring at the wall, waiting …

But nothing happens.

Except for when that one voice suddenly booms from the walls.

“Last. Chance.”

It’s him. It’s Graham.

Click.

I turn my head and watch the black door unlock.