The Bratva’s Locked Up Love by Jagger Cole

5

Quinn

I shouldn’t be here.There’s not even any need for me to be here. Not officially, at least. The savagely mysterious man—Maksim, not “inmate five-zero-four-nine”—is right. There’s obviously no need for me to come down here just to tell him that someone else will be giving him some medicine along with his next meal.

So… why am I here?

The entire way down here to the hole, I’ve been telling myself that this is just a doctor following up on her patient. I’ve lied to myself, insisting to the judgy voice inside that I’m simply making sure he hasn’t ripped any of his stitches out, or isn’t obviously bleeding out or withering with infection.

But those are lies. Or at the least, white ones I’ve told myself to mask the much more sordid and terrible reason I’m here.

I’m here because I haven’t stopped thinking of this man since yesterday. Not for one waking or—shamefully—one sleeping moment. And many of those thoughts have been… impure.

I blush deeply as I stare through the bars at the man who haunted my dreams last night. Haunted and ignited, I should say. I feel my thighs clench as I remember the parade of illicit dreamland fantasies involving him—the rough, muscled, tattooed inmate pressing me to the bars of a cage with his hand around my throat.

In my dreams though, it didn’t stop there. I remember waking fitfully feeling hot and damp with sweat after the dream version of Maksim slammed his mouth to mine. After he ripped away my clothes and ran those big rough hands wherever he wanted.

With a startle, I realize he’s just said my name, twice. Well, “doctor.” Which is actually kind of refreshing considering no one in this fucking place can seem to do better than “doc” or “Miss.” I blink back to reality, staring at him again.

Fuck, he’s…I blush deeply. He’s gorgeous. Dark hair, piercing dark eyes, a dark scruff across his chiseled jaw, and the grooved muscles of his bare torso hewn out of stone. His biceps ripple as he rolls his muscled shoulders, his arms raised above his head and locked in chains.

My eyes narrow, anger swelling at the way he’s been chained, like an animal.

“Doctor,” he growls quietly, again.

I swallow as I focus my gaze on his. “Yes?”

“Where am I?”

I tense. “I…” My brow knits. “I can’t tell you that.”

He smirks. “CIA black site?”

I try and halt the surprise on my face. But I’m not fast enough.

“Interesting,” he growls quietly.

“You’re not…” I frown. “Not the CIA.”

I’m saying way too much. I can’t trust myself around this man, for whatever insane reason. Yet another reason I shouldn’t be here.

His eyes hold mine, but he doesn’t push it. He mercifully doesn’t ask again.

“Are you really a doctor?”

I bristle. “Because I’m a woman?” I snap.

He rolls his eyes. “No, because you look like you just graduated high school.”

I grin, blushing. “Oh. No, I’m twenty-two.”

Maksim’s brows knit. “And you’re a doctor?”

“A surgeon, yes.”

“That is impressive.”

“I know.”

He chuckles, and then suddenly winces. I frown, walking around the side of his cage. My eyes narrow on the white bandages over the punctures in his bare back. One of them is tinged with red.

“Shit,” I mutter. “You might have ripped something.”

“I’ll be fine.”

I stare at him. “You were stabbed, you know.”

Maksim’s face seems almost amused. “I’ve been stabbed before.”

I swallow. “Maybe by knives. But the men who did this to you were using filed down pieces of pipes from God only knows where. I cleaned those wounds yesterday, but if you’ve torn stitches, I need to make sure that stays clean.”

Well, this is a bad idea on top of a bad idea. I literally just had my ass chewed up by the Colonel yesterday for going back in the operating cells after he’d expressly told me not to.

I glance around and shrug. Well, he didn’t say anything about not going into the hole, right?

I walk back over to the door I came through and pick up the medical bag I dropped on the ground. Turning, I tremble when I find Maksim’s eyes sweeping over me. There’s a hunger in that gaze—almost like a wolf sizing up a rabbit. And that should not excite me like it does before I shove those thoughts away.

He’s silent, but when I walk towards the cage in the middle of the stone room, he frowns.

“What are you doing?”

“I need to check that dressing on your back.”

His eyes narrow, and he shakes his head slowly. “You should stay on that side of the bars,” he growls quietly.

I pause abruptly. “Why?”

His muscles clench slightly. “Because there is a reason I’m locked in a cage with my arms above my head.”

I swallow, feeling the knot tighten in my chest. He’s not wrong. This is crossing a line from doctor’s duty to putting my safety in direct jeopardy. I don’t actually know this man at all. In fact, the only things I do know about him scream to stay the hell back.

He’s Russian Mafia. He’s huge—built out of muscle and tattoo ink. He killed three men the other day in the showers with his bare hands, while wounded and losing blood. He broke out of his restraints when he shouldn’t have been able to stand.

And he’s in here, for Christ’s sake. For whatever reason, he’s a guest of Yellow Creek, and that speaks volumes about who this man is.

And yet, he didn’t hurt me yesterday. He certainly could have. He could have done whatever he wanted to me, I think with a salacious blush. My core tightens with a throb. He could have done anything yesterday, and I’d have been utterly powerless to stop him.

But he didn’t. He could have. He even had every reason to—to use me as a shield or something to get free. But he didn’t.

Fuck it.

I march over to the keypad on the cage and start typing in a code.

“Doctor…”

The door swings open on rusted hinges. I swallow, looking up into his eyes as I stand in the doorway of the dimly lit cage. And then I step inside.

I walk slowly towards him, feeling heat tease over my skin under his gaze. On one side of the cage there’s a control box that I know operates the wench holding his chained arms up. I go over to it and push the button. His arms start to relax a little as they lower halfway.

“Don’t unlock them.”

His voice cuts through the silence like a blade. I pause, my heart thumping as I turn to him. He’s looking right at me with an intensity in his dark eyes that takes my breath away.

I tremble. “Why not?”

“Because you should not be that trusting,” he growls.

“You could have hurt me before.”

His look hardens.

“You didn’t though.”

Maksim says nothing. He just looks right at me.

“Why didn’t you?”

He still doesn’t say a word. I breathe slowly and nod.

“Fine.”

I grab my bag and walk behind him. I move close, swallowing as my eyes drag over his muscled, inked back. My gaze centers on two bandages. But then they sweep over the rest of him. Scars—some old, some newer—dot his skin beneath the ink. When I get close, the years I spent in my residency in the ER trauma wing of Mass General come rushing back.

These are battle scars—stabs, cuts, and two that are almost certainly bullet-hole wounds. I shiver. Yeah, he wasn’t kidding about being stabbed before.

My hand drops to his bare torso, and I tremble at the heat of his skin. He’s so warm, and I can feel his muscles rolling and clenching under his skin. I peer close as I peel back the bloodied bandage. Okay, good. The wound doesn’t have any signs of infection. But he does have two ripped stitches. Probably from the guards tackling him yesterday.

“I need to close this up.”

He nods. “Thank you.”

I wash down the wound and my hands with antiseptic, and pull the needle and thread out of my bag. Then I get to work. Of course, Maksim doesn’t even flinch.

“So this is not the CIA.”

I swallow, but I don’t say anything. I’m not really supposed to speak to the inmates in here at all, beyond basic discussions about their medical care. And I am definitely not allowed to talk to them about where they are or what this place is.

When I say nothing, Maksim grunts, like he’s thinking.

“Am I still in the US?”

I frown as I finish stitching the wound shut. “I-I can’t tell you that.”

“Are you CIA?”

I smile shyly. “I can’t tell you that either.”

He chuckles quietly. “Our conversations are going to be limited, aren’t they?”

“Afraid so,” I whisper as I finish taping the new dressing over the wound. I stand and then step back to admire my handiwork. Then I close up the bag and walk back around to the front of him. I have to coach myself, but slowly, I pull my gaze up to his. He’s already looking right at me, and the heat of his gaze takes my breath away.

“Do you…” I blush, stammering. God, what does this man do to me that I get like this?

“Can I get you anything before I go?”

Maksim smirks. “Vodka and a cheeseburger.”

I grin. “Interesting combination.”

He shrugs, his eyes still piercing mine. My teeth drag over my bottom lip as the question I’ve been dying to ask but haven’t found the courage to yet. But finally, it blurts from my lips.

“Why didn’t you hurt me yesterday?”

Maksim’s eyes narrow.

“You could have,” I whisper. “You could have killed me or used to me to get out of there.”

His jaw grits.

“Why didn’t you?”

The hulking beast of a man says nothing. But his eyes stay locked, burning into mine.

I swallow. “Because you’re not the monster they keep telling me you are?”

Slowly, his lips curl at the corners—dangerously. Coldly. His eyes narrow as a growl rumbles in his broad, muscled chest.

“No,” he whispers darkly.

“So—”

“I am twice the monster they’ve told you I am.”

His voice cuts the air between us like an ax. I tremble, my breath catching as my eyes widen up at him. But I slowly shake my head.

“I don’t believe that.”

His jaw tightens. “No?”

I shake my head.

“Then you are far too trusting to be in a place like this.”

“Well, I know that you could have hurt me, but you didn’t. So that tells me—”

“I provoked those men,” he grunts thickly. His lips curl. “I wanted them to attack me and wound me.”

I stiffen.

“I wanted to be hurt, so that I would be brought to that medical cell.” His eyes narrow on me. “I let myself be stabbed on purpose. Just to get in that room.”

I tremble, my pulse thudding in my ears. My skin feels like it’s electrified just by being near him, and my core throbs with heat under his fierce gaze.

“Why?” I whisper.

He growls. “Do not ask me that.”

“Why did you go through all of that just to get into that—”

“So that I could break free, hurt the doctor who was helping me, and use him or her as a human fucking shield to escape from this goddamn place!” he roars. I gasp, jumping as my heart leaps into my throat.

We stare at each other—his shoulders bunching, my pulse racing. My lip catches in my teeth.

“So why didn’t you?” I breathe.

His jaw clenches. “You should go.”

“No, you should tell me.”

“We’re done here.”

“Maksim, I want to help you.”

He grunts. “There’s no helping me. You need to leave.”

My pulse thuds as I step closer to him. And then another step. He growls dangerously, like a beast warning of its intent to pounce or defend. But I ignore it—either out of blind naiveté, or because I know deep down that the man in front of me is not the monster he and everyone else says he is.

“You could have killed me,” I whisper as I stop right in front of him, less than a foot from him. I look up into his darkly handsome, chiseled, and shadowed face.

“You could have—”

“Leave,” he growls thickly.

“If you were really a monster, you would have hurt or killed me yesterday to get out of this place.”

“Whatever the hell this place is,” he snarls, his eyes piercing mine. “You will not survive it being this fucking trusting.”

“I trust my instincts,” I say hoarsely. “I trust that I can tell you aren’t a monster, just like I trust that you don’t want to hurt me. That is why I’m in here, standing right here. Because I know you won’t—”

I gasp as his muscled arm suddenly drops, hooking around my shoulders. Fear and adrenaline scream through my head as I suddenly realize his arms were much looser than I thought they were.

Oh fuck. What have I done?”

With a grunt, he yanks me right into him. My heart leaps into my throat as I fall against his chest and stare up into his dark eyes in stunned shock.

“You are far too trusting, malishka” he snarls thickly.

I’m shaking, every nerve in my body blaring like alarm bells. But I stare right back into his eyes.

“I know you’re not going to hurt—”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he hisses, his eyes burning hotly. His arm tightens around me, taking my breath away.

“I want to do this.”

It happens before I can even register that it’s happening. His mouth lowers, and his lips crush hard against mine. I blink, stunned before the endorphin rush slams into me. His perfect, gorgeous lips sear to mine. And before I can stop myself… I’m kissing him back.

I’m kissing the monster, and I’ve never, ever been so turned on or excited by anything in my life.

I moan into his lips. I feel my hips move and my body surge against his. My skin burns as I sink into him, kissing him deeply as he growls into my mouth.

But then suddenly, it’s as if ice-water is dumped over my head. Suddenly, reality and my wits return to me. And all of a sudden, I’m aware of just how utterly insane this is.

With a startled gasp, I pull away. I slip from his arm, shoving his chest as I tumble back from him. I’m panting, my eyes wide as I stare at him. He stares right back with a fierceness that shakes me to my core.

My hand raises to touch my swollen lips—still wet from his. My core throbs with forbidden heat that pools hotly between my thighs.

Neither of us says a word.

Numbly, staring at him, I shuffle to the control panel and push the buttons. He keeps looking right at me as the winch hums, pulling his arms back up—maybe even tighter than it was before, because he winces just for a second. I swallow, fumbling for my bag and grasping it before I back away from him through the door to the cage.

My whole body is on fire. Heat throbs inside of me like a kiln. And I’m fairly sure I might be completely fucking insane.

I wet my lips, my eyes still locked on him as I shut the door to the cage. The electronic magnetic lock clanks into place.

“I—”

“Do not come back down here, doctor,” he growls quietly, never blinking as his eyes hold mine.

I tremble.

“The next time…” his jaw tightens. “I might not let you go.”

Every inch of me burns. Every piece of me aches with a forbidden desire I’ve never known. But slowly, I just nod. I nod and I walk backwards until my back hits the door. I reach back, fumbling for the buzzer. When I push it, I hear the door lock clank open.

I turn and push it open to step through into the antechamber between this door and the next. I turn back, and my eyes fall on Maksim. His gaze burns hotly into me, searing to my very core. My hand raises, touching my bruised, swollen lips from his kiss.

Then the door swings shut with a clank, sealing whatever the hell just happened back in that cell, along with the dangerous beast of a man who’s set a fire in my very soul.