Trapped (Caged 2)

“Who did you talk to?”

“Michael,” she said. “His phone number was the only one I had. He called your father.”

“Fuck a duck,” I muttered. I looked away from her and tried not to let the word traitor spend too much time in my head. Michael would have told others, no doubt. I wanted to argue about staying but was feeling weak enough that I knew I wasn’t going to win the battle. I looked up at Yolanda.

“He stabbed me,” I said. “That fucker got a knife from the guy outside the cage.”

“Outside?” Yolanda repeated. “What do you mean?”

“One of his cronies,” I told her. “I met him in Beals, but I don’t remember who it was.”

“Devin was there,” Tria said. “I saw him when Keith first came in.”

She turned to Yolanda.

“You didn’t miss anything—Devin had it.”

Yolanda looked down at the ground and scowled. I realized she must have been blaming herself for not checking him closely enough.

“He went up to the other dude,” I told her. “He reached outside the cage—I saw it. That had to have been when he got the knife. Where is the fucker now?”

“In this hospital,” Tria said, “but he has two police officers outside his room. He’s actually in worse shape than you are. I haven’t seen Devin, though.”

“What was

he doing there?” I asked Tria. “Did you bring him?”

“Of course not,” Tria said with a bit of a growl. “I do wonder if he followed me, though. Maybe it was just a coincidence.”

“Why were you there? You never come to watch me fight.”

“You left your cigarettes,” she said. “I saw the pack on the nightstand, and you were saying it was your last one earlier. I knew you were running late and wouldn’t have time to buy more. I thought I’d bring them to you.”

“You walked there on your own, didn’t you?” I already knew the answer and would have been livid if I had the strength. “Just to bring me fucking cigarettes?”

“It was still light out,” she said with a shrug.

I wanted to lay into her for being stupid for a stupid reason, but even the short conversation had worn me out. I lay my head back against the pillow and let out a long, frustrated sigh.

“The cops are gonna want to talk to you,” Yolanda said. “They’re charging him with attempted murder.”

“Not until tomorrow,” Dr. Baynor said. “Liam needs to sleep now.”

He started fucking around with the IV, and my head started feeling heavy again.

“Tria,” I mumbled.

“I’m here,” she replied.

“Don’t walk by yourself,” I muttered. “I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t, baby,” she said.

I felt her fingers running over my arm again before everything went dark.

*****

“You should get some food and rest.”