Caged (Savage Men 1)

Even when I’m pretending to read.

And when he looks at me again, my whole face turns red.

Shit.

I quickly change my position, hoping he didn’t notice, but of course, he did.

I can see his smug smile from where I’m sitting.

He enjoys putting on a show for me; I can tell. I wonder why he’s going through all this trouble, though. It can’t be all because of me.

After a while, he drops down from the bars, a resounding boom sounding from his feet as they crash into the concrete. Immediately, he drops down to the floor and starts doing push-ups. Hundreds. Maybe more. I’m not keeping count. But the most amazing part is that he’s doing more than half with just one hand, alternating both like he’s attempting to train to the max. As if he’s preparing for something. But for what?

When he catches me staring again, I quickly turn away and shake my head.

I’ve got to stop letting this man who’s obviously not in my reach distract me. Literally. A thick, impenetrable glass wall separates us, and nothing he does is going to change that.

I’ve already tried throwing everything at the glass, but to no avail.

He’s probably done the same thing loads of times. If it didn’t work for him, I don’t know why I thought it’d work for me.

Oh, well … guess we have nothing to do here to waste time except read books and work out like we’re in the Army. I can’t blame him.

I just hope the waiting ends someday, and that Graham will just tell us why we’re here because I can’t handle being here forever without knowing why.

I just need to know why. So I make a promise to myself right now that the next time I see him, I’m going to make him tell me.

The sweaty, pumped-up man next to me gets up from the floor and stands still in the middle of the room. When I look up, I notice he’s staring at me. And no matter how hard I stare back, he won’t stop. It’s the same as last time … only worse …

More … raw … and hungry.

And why do I get the feeling he’s undressing me with his eyes?

I swallow hard and return to my book, determined not to let his ample physique distract me from my objective … which is getting out of here.

With or without the unknown man.

Accompanying Song: “Hanging Lights” by Kyle Dixon & Michael Stein

Just as I’m about to fall asleep on my belly, my eyes spring open, and I look up. All visible lights have gone out. I push myself further under my blanket until only my eyes peek just above the pillow. I shiver, wondering what’s going on. I feel like anything could happen. The lights have never gone off.

What does it mean?

Is Graham gone?

Was there a power outage?

Or did he do this on purpose?

Noises from below us make me place my hand on the ground to feel the vibrations. Nothing penetrates the thick concrete, though. But now I know there’s not just earth underneath us. We must be up a floor or more—how many I don’t know—but I’m sure it’s not a basement.

The realization gives me a jolt of energy, an indescribable feeling of power. Why? Because I just discovered something Graham probably doesn’t want me to know. And it feels fantastic.

Even if it’s just a tiny bit of information, it’s enough to fuel the desire in me to discover more about this place. To learn the ins and outs. Because that is the only way to plan an escape.

Suddenly, the door on the other end of the room creaks and opens wide. I can barely tell what’s going on because it’s so dark, but I can definitely make out a figure … and a moving chair on wheels. And inside is another person.

Groans are audible.

I hold my breath as the wheelchair approaches, and I pretend to be asleep even though I’m still lurking underneath the blanket. As it’s rolled past me, I can clearly distinguish the shape inside … It’s a girl, judging from the long hair and voluptuous chest.

But before I have another chance to look, she’s rolled past my window and into the room behind the dark doors. Not long after, another door creaks open. It’s in the far corner of the room in the cell on the other side of the handsome stranger next to me.

He’s fast asleep, snoring on his bed, while I’m lying here with a pounding heart, wondering what’s going on.

The wheelchair is pushed into the cell, and the girl is taken out. Then the figure leaves with the wheelchair. I assume it’s Graham. It must be.

He rummages in his pocket, and I hear a clicking noise. The light turns back on. Then he exits the room with the wheelchair, leaving us all alone again.