by Claire Kent
His face softened unexpectedly, and he stroked her cheek with his knuckle. “I see. I don’t have it all completely worked out yet, but whatever the plan ends up being, it will have to work for two.”
Riana managed a shaky smile at him. “Good.” They held the look for several seconds, and it felt like they shared something in the gaze.
Then Riana glanced down at his precious device. “What does that thing even do?”
“I have no guarantee it will do anything. I’ll explain when I get back.”
She wanted to know right now, but she just nodded and stepped back, recognizing that this was important and she couldn’t get in his way.
He locked the door behind him and disappeared out of sight.
Several minutes later, she heard an uproar. Maybe a fight. Maybe something else. She couldn’t really tell by the nature of the noise. She assumed it was Cain’s doing. In a few seconds, he appeared at the door of the cell again. Before she could open her mouth to ask what was going on, he’d picked up the device and left again.
He must have shaped some sort of distraction so he could plant it—so he wouldn’t have to wait until after lights out and fumble around in the dark.
She huddled on the bed, trying not to get scared, until Cain reappeared. She was so glad to see him she jumped off the bed and threw herself into his arms.
She’d never done anything like that before, but she wasn’t even self-conscious. Cain felt a little stiff at first—maybe from surprise—but then he put his arms around her and held her close for a minute.
“Did you not believe me when I said I’d be back?” Cain muttered eventually.
She pulled her face away from his shoulder. “I did. But I’m all confused and nervous, and now you’ve given me hope that maybe we can actually get out of here. I’m so edgy I can barely stand it.”
“I know,” Cain murmured, stroking her back with a surprisingly gentle hand. “I’ve been putting this plan together for a year now, and I’m still not sure of the final details. I have to think things through myself before I share them. I wasn’t holding out on you on purpose. I didn’t realize you’d catch me at it, put together an absurd theory, and go into a panic about it.”
To Riana’s surprise, she realized he was actually apologizing to her for keeping her in the dark for so long. She felt a warmth fill her chest and squirmed a little in pleasure. But, keeping her voice dry, she muttered, “It was a perfectly reasonable theory.”
Cain actually chuckled.
“Can’t you please tell me what’s going on now?” Riana begged, fisting her fingers in his shirt. “I feel like I’m going to go crazy.”
“Yeah. I’ll try to explain what I’ve got in place so far, but I’m still not sure of the final details.”
“Well, maybe I can help with those. I do have a brain that basically functions, you know.”
Cain sat down on the edge of the bed, pulled her down to sit down next to him, and started to explain.
Several minutes later, Riana was staring at him, thinking as quickly as she could. His plan wasn’t bad—it could possibly work—but it required them getting into the control room, which was going to be a really hard thing to manage.
After a minute, her mind landed on the obvious answer.
“Hall,” she whispered. “We can get Hall to help.”
Cain stiffened. “I don’t think so.”
“Well, why not? If we can get to a transport, there’s room for three people as well as two. And Hall has that Reader power that might be exactly what we need.”
“I’m not going to trust both of our lives to him. We have no reason to think he’s on our side.”
She was getting frustrated, since Cain seemed to be acting on testosterone rather than reason. “Well, we can trust that he wants to get out of here as much as we do. What is he going to do? Ruin the only chance he has to escape by tattling?”
“He could turn me in and take what I know he wants.” Cain’s expression was completely impenetrable.
“What is that?”
“You. And this cell.”
She groaned. “Cain, please. If he has a choice between escape and this cell, which do you think he’s going to take? He’s a smart guy, and he has a certain ability that we might need. Is it even possible that I might have an idea that contributes to our getting out of here, or am I really just a possession to you?”
She hadn’t intended to ask the final question, but it burst out before she could stop it.
It lingered in the air, defined the space between them.
Cain breathed heavily, but he didn’t argue anymore. He was obviously thinking, weighing options, until finally he relaxed slightly and nodded. “Okay. But we don’t tell him until tomorrow. I don’t want him to have any chance to come up with his own alternate plan.”
“Agreed.” Her chest had loosened, and for the first time in so long she felt something like hope.
It definitely had to do with the slim possibility of their escaping, but it also had to do with the fact that Cain had given weight to her opinion, treated her like an equal partner.
She wondered what he was thinking about the future, whether there was any chance that he’d want them to stay together.
She wondered if this crazy plan—even Cain’s ungainly machine—would even work.
After they’d talked, they had sex—slow, quiet missionary under the covers. Riana was drained and clingy after her stressful day and her scare. And, after his two climaxes that morning, Cain was able to take his time without urgency taking over.
The motion seemed to match the deep emotion she was feeling. Riana kept her arms around his back, holding him as tightly as she wanted. And Cain thrust into her with a slow, steady rhythm, angling his hips to give her as much pleasure as he could.
She’d come a second time when the noise outside the cell altered. It wasn’t the mealtime roar. And it wasn’t the sudden burst of sound that followed the outbreak of a violent altercation.
She wasn’t quite sure what it was.
Cain was getting close to coming. His speed had picked up and his expression was tightening. But he must have noticed her distraction because he gritted out, “Checkup.”
That was it. The armored vehicle must have entered the Hold to pick up the next prisoner for a checkup.
Riana moved her hands up so she could stroke his scalp, loving the texture of his closely shaven hair beneath her fingertips. “Are you going to come?”
“Was thinking about it.” His hips jerked a few times, as if he momentarily lost control of them.
She squeezed her pussy around his cock. “Oh good.”
He grunted at the pressure, and his features twisted with effort.
She squeezed him again.
He let out a muffled exclamation, and a wash of pleasure transformed his face as he pushed a few last times into her tight pussy.
She pulled him down into her arms afterward, feeling oddly tender and possessive. He breathed heavily against the crook of her neck, and then he pulled up to look down at her face.
She thought he was going to say something, but he didn’t have the chance.
The noise of the armored vehicle had been getting closer and closer.
Until it suddenly appeared just in front of the cell.
It stopped there, and both Riana and Cain turned to stare at it in surprise.
It only took her a second to figure out what was happening. One of them was getting taken for the checkup.
The thought nauseated her, even though she had no idea what the checkup consisted of, and she was suddenly terrified that the timing was intentional. That somehow their plan or his device had been discovered.
“Just a coincidence,” Cain murmured under his breath, obviously having read her silent terror. “Don’t panic.”
There was a mechanized claw at the front of the vehicle, which was usually the way they picked up the prisoners for the checkup—so the guard could avoid leaving the protection of th
e vehicle and risking attack. But since there were bars in front of this cell, the claw couldn’t do its duty. So instead the guard pulled the vehicle alongside the bars until the door to the vehicle was lined up with the door to the cell.
Pretty clever, actually. That way, there was no risk of being attacked by the other prisoners.
Not that Cain himself wasn’t threat enough.
When the door opened, Riana understood she wasn’t the only one who realized this. The first thing she saw was a gun—an old-fashioned automatic weapon which was all they used in the Hold, probably as a precaution against one of the prisoners getting a hold of a more sophisticated weapon. Then she saw Davis lean out. “Unlock the cell,” he called out.
Neither Cain nor Riana moved. They were still entangled intimately under the covers, and they just stared at the unexpected arrival.
“I have no qualms about killing one or both of you.” Davis didn’t sound vicious or nasty. Simply matter-of-fact.
With a long exhalation, Cain extracted himself from Riana’s arms and sat on the edge of the bed to pull on his pants. Then he walked over to unlock the cell door.
Davis wasn’t stupid. He leaned back as Cain approached, making sure the gun was out of the range of Cain’s hands.
But Cain didn’t put up a fight. She hadn’t expected him too.
Escape was almost within reach. He wasn’t going to blow it now.
Evidently, it was Cain’s turn for a checkup because he was manacled at his wrists and feet. And then, to her horror, he was gagged.
“Why are you doing that?” Riana gasped, sitting up and barely remembering to pull up the sheet to hide her bare breasts.
“Protocol,” Davis explained calmly, “When we can’t use the claw.”
“Oh.”
Only when he was being hauled over to the entrance of the vehicle did Cain begin to struggle. He was trying to say something around his gag, and he jerked and fought against his restraints.
Davis aimed a hard blow at his side, causing Cain to briefly double over.
“No,” Riana cried out. “Don’t.” She was so upset she started out of the bed, forgetting the fact that she was naked and that Cain’s semen was leaking out of her pussy.
Davis turned back to her. She saw his eyes slide down to take in the sight of her body and a new expression appeared on his face.
It only lasted a moment, however, before he regained his business-like passivity.
But the brief flare of heat she’d seen made her self-conscious, and she pulled one of the blankets off the bed and held it up to shield her body.
By that point, she’d figured out what Cain was trying to express. So she explained, “The key. To this cell. There’s only one of them and he has it. I think he wants to give it to me.” Her eyes strayed to the rest of the Hold. “Otherwise, I’ll have no protection here.”
Davis thought for a minute but then must have decided this was reasonable. He went over to Cain himself and took the key. After studying it for a minute to make sure that was all it was, he walked it back over to Riana.
His eyes held hers for a long moment. “Are you all right here?”
It was an absolutely idiotic question. No one could be all right in the Hold.
But she understood what he was asking her. His eyes had drifted over to Cain’s big, animalistic form.
“As well as can be expected.” She kept her eyes cool, even though she suspected Davis was being as kind as he was allowed to be.
He’d kept her from being raped by the other guards that first day. She remembered that.
With a curt nod, Davis turned away from her and herded a shackled Cain onto the vehicle. Riana felt vaguely sick as the doors of the vehicle slammed shut, but she hurried over to lock the door of the cell before it pulled away.
Davis wouldn’t torture Cain for fun, and he wouldn’t kill him unless Cain put up a fight.
It should be all right.
It was terrible that the checkup happened just before they were going to make their escape, but it wasn’t the end of the world.
Cain would be back before lights out.
She spent the rest of the day huddled in bed. She wasn’t about to leave the cell at mealtime to try to get any food, but she wasn’t hungry anyway.
If Cain had been here, he would have found the Tortoise and given him something to eat.
Hall came over, standing outside the bars until Riana noticed him and sat up.
“Do you need anything?” Hall asked, the way he had last time. This time he added, “I can get you some food.”
She shook her head. “I’m not hungry. But thanks.”
“Are you going to be all right in here by yourself?”
“He’ll be back before lights out.”
“Are you sure?”
Her breath hitched because it was a fear she had herself. “Of course. It’s a checkup. He’ll be back.”
Hall inclined his head, although he didn’t look convinced.
“He’ll be back,” Riana repeated, as if saying it enough would make it true.
“Chances are, he will,” Hall said. “If the worst happens, and he doesn’t come back, I can help you. You’ll need someone.”
She nodded jerkily, knowing he was right, knowing that if anything happened to Cain, Hall would be her best and only option. He might not be as strong as Cain, but he seemed to do all right. He still had his cell, and everyone else seemed to avoid him because of his gift. He wouldn’t hurt her.
The thought of fucking him made her feel faintly sick—not because he was unattractive or because she doubted his virility, but because he wasn’t Cain.
And the only way she’d be in the position to fuck anyone else was if Cain was dead.
“I watch you sometimes,” Hall said, in a different, almost reflective tone.
She stiffened. “You aren’t the only one.”
Hall made a face. “If I wanted to see fucking, I could see that anywhere. That’s not why I watch you.”
She was confused now and genuinely curious. There seemed to be depths to Hall she hadn’t even scratched the surface of, and she doubted she ever would. “So why do you then?”
“Because it’s too easy to forget in this place what it means to be human. And I can see it still in you.” He nodded toward the corner of the cell, where Cain’s device had been. “And even him. It’s kept me sane.”
Riana was strangely touched by the admission, by its obvious sincerity—so unlike the ironic charisma that seemed to be his typical demeanor. “Thanks,” she mumbled, not sure what else to say.
He’d turned away to leave, obviously seeing the conversation was over, when she called out after him, “Hall.”
He looked back with a lift of his eyebrows.
“Tomorrow. We could use your help tomorrow.”
She saw his face change as he processed the words, knew he’d understood what she was saying. He glanced over yet again to the floor of the cell where the device used to be.
“I’ll be here. Say the word.”
“We’ll let you know.”
“Thank you,” he said, just before he walked away. “If I have to stay here much longer, I’m going to kill myself.”
The words were light, almost carefree, but Riana suspected they were true.
The rest of the day seemed to drag on unmercifully, and her reasonable calm at Cain’s departure gradually altered into anxious dread.
What was happening to him? What were they doing? Were they hurting him? When was she going to get him back?
She couldn’t keep track of time in her mind as well as Cain did, so she could never predict the exact time of lights out the way he did. She was sure it was getting close, though.
They were going to give him back to her this evening, weren’t they?
She was starting to have nightmares about them keeping Cain overnight when a voice outside of the cell startled her.
“Riana. Let me in!”
She jumped out of bed at
the sound of Cain’s voice, and she stumbled over to unlock the door.
Only when she’d let him in did she have a chance to look him over.
He looked terrible. There wasn’t any evident damage to his body, but he was limping and hunched over. His face looked stretched and exhausted.
She grabbed him and hugged him to her. “Cain, are you all right?”
“Yeah.” His low mutter wasn’t convincing, and he pulled out of her embrace.
“What did they do to you?”
He didn’t answer. Just gave a brief shake of his head and limped into the bathroom. When he came out, he washed his hands and face in the sink and stood blankly in the middle of the floor.
“Cain, tell me what’s wrong,” she begged, feeling helpless and scared and overwhelmed.
He rubbed at his face. “I’m all right.” This time, he seemed to be making the effort to sound convincing.
But Riana still wasn’t convinced.
Instead of demanding answers, her eyes overflowed with sympathy. She put an arm around him and urged him toward the bed.
He didn’t resist. When he’d gotten into bed, he rolled onto his side, facing away from her. He seemed to be closing in on himself.
She made a choked sound in her throat and pressed her body up against his back, wrapping her arms around him. She stroked his chest, hating how tense and stiff his muscles felt.
He’d gone fully into defense mode, and she had no idea what they’d done to him to make him.
Pressing kisses on his shoulder and the back of his neck, she murmured silly, soothing words and stroked and caressed him as much as she could. The lights went off, leaving them in darkness, but she didn’t stop touching him.
It wasn’t remotely sexual, and it wasn’t going to turn into that. But the feeling in her gut and her chest—deep, swelling, overwhelming—was every bit as strong as physical arousal. She felt tender, protective, almost maternal. She wanted to take care of him. Wanted to make him feel better.