Page 10 of Innocently Captured By the Bratva

I realize how small this car is, how impossibly hard it is to not care about how close Mark sits. There’s a charged silence between us before Mark clears his throat and looks ahead again. “I'm not kidnapping you, Quinn. I'm protecting you.”

”Protecting me? From what?” I scoff, crossing my arms over my chest. Justwhodoes he think he is?

“There's no time to explain right now. We need to get you somewhere safe.” He says it with a straight face, like this is just another day at work for him.

I let out a humorless laugh. “Safe? You don’t even know me! Forgive me if I find that hard to believe.”

I can't wrap my mind around this. One minute I was getting out of my car to go straight to my apartment, and the next I'm trapped in a car with Mark, a man I’ve met a total of one time. I don’t even know his last name! How does he even know where I live?

”Quinn, listen to me,” Mark says with an urgency in his voice I find hard to ignore. “I know you have no reason to trust me, but I need you to believe that I have your best interests at heart.”

I narrow my eyes at him, searching his face for any hint of deception, but all I see is sincerity. He truly believes what he’s saying!

Despite the part of me that wants to demand he undo the child lock and let me out right this second, I find myself hesitating. Maybe it's the way he speaks with such angst or the stress radiating off him that makes me think otherwise.

I take a deep breath to steady my frantic heart. “Okay,” I say slowly. “I'll hear you out. But this better be good, Mark. Because if you're lying to me, I swear to god I'll make you regret it.”

Mark looks over at me in surprise. “When I arrived at your apartment, I noticed your window was open. I watched your place for a while, Quinn. Someone was in there.”

“What are you talking about? Why were you watching my place?” The thought of him paying such close attention to my apartment is unnerving, to say the least.

He sighs. “It doesn't matter how I know. What matters is that you're in danger, and I need to get you somewhere safe.”His gaze meets mine briefly, and the intensity in his eyes steals my breath. “I'm taking you to my house. It's the only place I can guarantee your protection.”

My mind reels. I've always prided myself on my independence and ability to take care of myself. But the thought of someone breaking into my apartment, of being in danger... It's enough to make my stomach twist.

”How do I know this isn't some kind of trick?” I ask, my voice wavering slightly. “For all I know, you could be the one putting me in danger. Besides, you said my window was open? It can’t be. I’m certain I closed it. You’ve probably got the wrong apartment.”

Mark's jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it already.” His words are blunt, but there's a rawness to them that catches me off guard.

”Okay,” I whisper at last. “I'll go with you. But if this is some kind of game, Mark...”

“It’s not a fucking game, Quinn. There, look! That’s your damn apartment, isn’t it?” he points up at my apartment, and when I look, I freeze. The window is open.

“I… I thought I closed it,” I say again. “It’s always closed.”

“I know. Believe me now?” he says, beginning to put the car into drive.

”No!” I say, rather sharply. “I might have left it open by accident. Let’s just go up and check, okay? What you’re suggesting is crazy. I can’t just go to your house.”

”Why not?” he asks, like it’s the silliest concern I have.

”Because I don’t know you!”My voice comes out an octave higher in protest, to truly drive the point home. “Be reasonable.”

”Fine. You want reasonable?” he argues. “We’ll sit right here and watch. I thought I saw someone in there. He’s bound to make an appearance now.”

“If there’s someone in my apartment, I insist we go check it out,” I tell him.

”No,” he roars with such fierce protectiveness that a dull silence falls over the car. He sighs and runs his hand through his hair before shutting down the car and looking at me likeI’ma complete pain inhisass. “We’ll sit here and watch. The man could be armed.”

There’s something about his command, the way he’s taking charge, that makes me stay planted in my seat, eyes fixed on the open window of my apartment.

”Fine,” I whisper.

”Fine,” he says hoarsely, his eyes locking with mine. Tension crackles in the air as we stay fixated in that position until finally his eyes flicker between mine and then he turns back.

Once again, I notice how close we’re sitting, how his sleek sports car leaves hardly an arm's length of distance between us. In this silence, I catch the scent of mahogany from him and the leather of these expensive seats.

The silence stretches between us as we sit in the car, my eyes mostly fixed on my apartment building. The anticipation is almost unbearable, creating a tightness in my chest that makes it hard to breathe. I glance over at Mark.

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