Caged (Savage Men 1)

I tap out the word no.

They’re still circling each other, and the men on the benches seem riled up about it. One of them stands up and yells.

Suddenly, Cage and the unknown man clash.

I quickly tap once to let Syrena know the fight has started.

Their hits are vicious. Powerful. Like mountains colliding.

It’s rough and coarse and not at all fair. The man hits him in the nuts, but Cage responds with an uppercut to the chin and then another one right in the nose. They’re equally fierce and brutal, but the look in the man’s eyes is murderous.

It scares me to the point where I’m actually hoping Cage might win just because he feels like the lesser of two evils right now.

I don’t know who that man is or why he’s fighting Cage, but it doesn’t look like an ordinary fight. They aren’t just fighting to win.

They’re fighting to the death.

It’s as if I’m watching two animals clawing at each other, and the men in the audience seem to be enjoying it even more. The harder they slam into each other, the bigger the wretched smiles on their faces, and the more they cheer. It’s wrong, so wrong, but when I look at Cage and the violent spark in his eyes, I know he’s enjoying it too.

It’s his footwork and the way he punches his opponent that gives it away.

This is not the first time he’s done this.

I just wonder … how many times has he killed someone?

This is cruelty, yet Cage doesn’t seem to see it that way. It’s almost as if he’s truly come alive down there in the ring. He’s no longer that shy caveman who barely communicates while locked in a cage. He’s a ferocious animal living for the kill.

And right then and there, he smashes his opponent to the ground.

Beating him to a pulp.

He doesn’t stop. Not until Graham whistles.

When he gets off the ground, blood is everywhere. I’m not sure which is his, but he’s covered in it too. Cage doesn’t even seem fazed by it. In fact, he almost looks proud.

My heart is beating in my throat as he breathes in and out so hard I can see his heavy chest muscles move. His eyes turn up toward the sky. Toward me.

I freeze the moment our eyes lock. The fire inside his seems unquenched. But I can’t look away. It’s as if he’s demanding me to see him. To see what’s become of him now that Graham put him down there. As if he wants me to see the real him.

Graham flicks his fingers and severs our connection again just like that.

Cage walks away from the body and jumps out of the ring. What’s left is a testament to a bloody fight where only one man could be victorious.

I lean away and sit down on my ass to process what I’ve just seen.

“Is it done? Is he alive?”

I tap once with the lipstick, but my movement is so damn slow. I still can’t believe what I just witnessed.

“Is he coming back up?”

Why does she want to know that?

He isn’t a prisoner. At least, not like us. That man down there is his father. The same man who took us. They’re family. There’s no way he could be a prisoner in here. Right?

But then why was Cage practically living right beside us in that very glass cage I’m looking at right now? Does Graham keep him there like some kind of animal? Just to make money off fights?

Just thinking about it makes me wanna punch the floor, but I don’t.

It’s no use. If Cage, the most powerful one of us three, didn’t flee … never got out … There’s no hope for us.

The ground begins to rumble again, and I recognize the sound. That makeshift lift is coming back up. I crawl away from the glass pane in the floor and quickly cover it with the rug. Not soon after, I see Cage’s head pop up from the ground. He stands rigid and proud, like a brave warrior returning from war, covered in blood.

“Welcome back …” Syrena says, clearing her throat.

She’s looking for an opening. She’s much more courageous than I am.

If he’s Graham’s son, then whose to say Cage is on our side?

He immediately unwraps his hands, not granting either of us a look. The shower suddenly turns on. I suspect it’s Graham’s doing. He must have a remote switch.

However, my attention is immediately pulled toward Cage who takes off his training shorts like he’s all alone and walks to the shower butt naked. He doesn’t even give a shit that I’m right here, looking at him.

Maybe he’s so used to Syrena not being able to see him that he forgot I could. Or maybe he wants me to see him. Because damn … the way the water forms rivulets as it rolls down his naked body has me enchanted.