Hold (13 page)

“Do it.” Davis demanded, aiming a gun at him.

Riana hurried over to Cain and grabbed the key from his pocket. Then she went to unlock the cell door as instructed.

Davis came in, warily leveling the weapon at Cain.

“You took me yesterday,” Cain snarled.

“I’m not here for you today.” Davis’ eyes flickered over to where Riana was standing a few feet away.

Cain made a growling noise and took a threatening step forward.

Davis shifted the gun until he was aiming directly at Cain’s groin. “Not a good idea. I’m just taking her for the checkup. She’ll be back before lights out.”

“She’s mine,” Cain gritted out, looking and sounding like a snarling animal.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Riana snapped, stepping between Cain and Davis’ weapon with an impatient glance back at Cain.

“I’ll go,” she said, calmly meeting Davis’ green eyes. “And I’m not his.”

As she’d hoped, his expression changed as she added those last soft words. He nodded, an expression of both understanding and interest on his face.

She was manacled and gagged—Davis always followed the rules—while Cain’s guttural objections and menacing behavior intensified every time Davis put his hands on her.

When the man placed a hand on the small of her back to guide her into the vehicle, Cain let out a savage roar and started to advance.

But the time he’d reached the vehicle, however, Davis had slammed the door, with him and Riana inside.

Cain shouted rough obscenities and pounded on the armored door.

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Davis pulled the vehicle away from the cell. “Kind of territorial, isn’t he?” he said dryly, reaching back to unfasten her gag.

“He’s an animal,” Riana muttered, keeping her eyelashes lowered so Davis couldn’t read the real expression in her eyes.

Her heart was pounding painfully and she was having trouble breathing evenly.

Cain had to be so careful. If he went too far, Davis might just kill him.

Cain followed the vehicle, jumped on the back of it and tried to rip the door off the hinges—in a convincing performance of working himself up into a furious frenzy of violence.

“Is he always like this?” Davis asked, shaking his head and maneuvering the vehicle back and forth in an attempt to dislodge Cain.

Riana let out a long breath. “Always.”

By the time they reached the mechanized, reinforced door that led from the Hold to the guard center, Davis had clearly lost his patience with Cain. Adjusting a lever that evidently controlled the claw function, he said, “It’s time he was taught a lesson.”

Riana gasped and looked back, watching as the huge metal claw closed around Cain. “You’re not going to kill him, are you?”

“Would you mind?” Davis’ eyes had shifted to scrutinize her closely.

“Yes. I would mind. He’s the only thing keeping me alive in here!”

This answer seemed to please him, and his mouth relaxed almost imperceptibly.

“I’m not going to kill him. We don’t kill prisoners. It’s against Coalition law.”

One of the many bitter ironies of living under Coalition justice. No capital punishment. No killing of prisoners. The pretense of keeping them healthy.

Just let them rip each other to shreds by locking them together in the Hold.

When they docked next to the control center of the prison, several guards came out—all of them brandishing guns. Davis put the gag back in place before he helped her out of the vehicle and then turned to watch the guards release Cain.

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As soon as Cain made his first lunge, the guards attacked him. They beat him savagely, with their fists, the butts of their guns and their boots.

After a minute, Riana whimpered around her gag and made a pleading sound aimed at Davis.

“They won’t kill him,” Davis murmured, watching the beating with impersonal observation. “Sometimes prisoners need a reminder that they’re not as strong as they think.”

Riana could barely breathe and she was afraid she was going to be sick. Every blow Cain took felt like it hurt her, and when she saw blood she had to look away.

It was then that Davis said, “Enough. Take him to Isolation and leave him alone.”

Riana was finally able to take a full breath when she saw the guards drag Cain to his feet. He could still stand, although he bent slightly at the waist and there was blood on his face and his shirt.

She noticed one of the guards eyeing her greedily, his gaze crawling over her body.

Her trousers had been so well-worn by now that the fabric was soft and thin, riding low on her hips and smoothly shaping the lines of her bottom and legs. She was just wearing her camisole. The thin straps were stretched so they always fell down over her shoulders, and the stretchy fabric clung, revealing the swell of her breasts and the peaks of her nipples, and leaving a strip of bare skin between the hem and the top of her pants.

She was in better shape than she’d ever been in her life—thanks to two months of rigorous exercise with Cain. But she also hadn’t taken a shower in two months. And she couldn’t believe anyone but Cain would actually find her attractive.

“I’ll take over the checkup, if you want,” the guard volunteered.

Davis looked briefly annoyed. But then his professional demeanor reappeared as he snapped out an order to remove Cain immediately.

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So it was Davis who walked Riana through a different mechanized door—Riana made a note of the one they’d taken Cain into—and it was Davis who took the gag off her.

After clearing her throat, Riana asked weakly, “What are you going to do to me?”

“Checkup. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Again, Riana realized his words were a gesture of kindness—although they didn’t feel particularly kind to her at the moment. She knew what was coming, and she would have been afraid—if she’d believed she would actually be going through with the checkup.

“You need to take off your clothes and lie down here.” Davis gestured at the long table in the center of the room. “Put your arms and legs on the cuffs and I’ll snap them in place from outside.”

Even though she’d known it was coming, the words still made her belly churn with nerves. “Do I have to take my clothes off?” she asked, just as she and Cain had planned this morning. “Those other guards were—”

“No one will see you but me,” Davis assured her. “Unless you don’t get on the table to be restrained. Then I’ll have to bring others in and we’ll do it by force.”

“I’ll do what I’m supposed to.” She spoke quickly and widened her eyes, not having to feign anxiety. “I don’t want any trouble.”

This seemed to please Davis too. The corner of his lips turned up slightly. “I didn’t think so. I’ll be outside, but I’ll have to observe you through the window to make sure you don’t try anything.”

“I understand.”

When Davis had left the room, the door sliding shut behind him, Riana took off her clothes, draping them on an empty table. She felt trembly and uncomfortable completely naked—especially knowing Davis was watching her—but she got on the table, lay on her back and put her heels and hands in the designated spots.

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There was a loud click as the shackles snapped over her wrists and ankles. She was naked on the table now, spread-eagle with her legs parted.

The only time she could remember feeling more vulnerable was when she’d first been dumped into the Hold.

Davis wasn’t going to hurt her, though. He might not be a truly good man but he was a rule follower. And he wasn’t out to hurt or debase her.

She would have come to this conclusion on her own, but she was comforted by the fact that Cain had assessed the man in the same way.

Cain wouldn’t have let her do this if he hadn’t been confident she was safe with Davis.

“Are you cold?” Davis asked, when he came back into the room.

She was. Her skin had broken out in goose bumps, and her nipples had tightened into rosy, erect peaks. “A little.” Her voice came out shaky, so she didn’t have to try to pretend. “The table is really cold.”

Davis hadn’t looked at her directly yet—as if he were making a point not to—and now he turned to adjust one of the controls on the panel that covered half of one wall.

“I’ll see if we can get it a little warmer in here.”

Riana whispered, “Thank you.”

He met her eyes then, still managing to avoid staring down at her spread, naked body. “I’ll give you a visual checkup first—to look for obvious signs of ill-health. Then you’ll go through a series of computerized tests. It’s uncomfortable but you should do fine.”

“Okay.”

For the first time, Davis let his eyes stray down to her body. They lingered on her firm, rounded breasts, although he clearly tried not to leer. “Has anything been troubling you?”

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Other than the fact that she’d been thrown in a prison to be used as the convicts wanted, she assumed he meant.

“My skin is itchy a lot—because I can’t clean myself properly,” she told him, although she assumed this would be true of everyone. “And I have a couple of cuts I’m afraid are infected.”

Davis had looked over her body carefully, doing his best to sustain a professional disinterest. But she’d noticed his breathing pick up and his face flush slightly, and she was pretty sure they were signs of excitement. “Where are the cuts?”

“One is here.” She gestured with her chin to her right armpit. “It hasn’t been there long but it’s really been bothering me.”

The cut was actually on the side of her breast. And it had been made that morning when Cain had carefully given her a superficial gash with his hidden blade.

She thought she heard Davis’ breath hitch but he didn’t say anything as he turned to get some sort of disinfectant salve from a medical kit. Very gently, he wiped down the cut and then spread the salve over the wound.

When he accidentally grazed her hard nipple with the side of his hand, Riana sucked in a sharp breath and arched her back slightly.

The second time he brushed her nipple, she wasn’t sure it was an accident.

“Does he…” Davis began, clearing his throat after his voice cracked. His face was even more flushed now, and there was a barely suppressed smolder in his eyes. “Does he hurt you?”

She didn’t bother asking who he was talking about. “Do you mean does he beat me or anything? No. He doesn’t.”

Davis’ eyes shifted briefly back up to her eyes. “He doesn’t?”

She managed to shape a little smile, hoping it looked like mutual understanding based on the skepticism in his voice. “He really doesn’t. He thinks of me as his. He likes to…to make sure everyone knows I’m his. But he doesn’t want me damaged.”

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He’d bandaged the cut and smoothed it one last time, letting his hand linger on her breast just a second too long. “Where was the other cut?”

Riana swallowed hard and worried her lower lip with her teeth.

Davis’ brows drew together. “Where is it?” His voice was gentler than before.

“Down there,” Riana whispered, nodding down between her legs. “He…he cut me.”

Davis’ hand jerked visibly. “What?”

“He cut me,” she explained. “When he was…was shaving me.”

His stared down at her smooth-shaven groin. “He shaves you?” He sounded absolutely horrified.

“He likes me to…to look a certain way.”

The cut next to her pussy had been Riana’s idea. Cain had wanted to just use the one gash near her breast, but Riana had been worried that wouldn’t be enough to break Davis’ rigid control.

She didn’t have as much confidence in her charms as Cain had.

Cain had not been at all happy about the idea of cutting her in that spot. And he’d been even less happy about the idea of Davis looking, touching her down there.

But Riana had insisted—wanting to use every advantage they possibly could—and in the end strategy and necessity had outweighed Cain’s instinctive protectiveness.

Secretly, Riana had been a tiny bit pleased by this evidence of his possessiveness of her. But she tried not to dwell on such an unworthy reaction to such unnatural circumstances.

With an almost delicate touch, Davis wiped the cut, which was genuinely uncomfortable, in the crease between her inner thigh and her pussy.

She gasped at the first contact and arched her spine to push up her breasts again.

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“Does it hurt? I’m sorry.” Davis’ hand was shaking a little now, and he couldn’t control his gaze, which made a hungry path from her pussy to her shuddering belly to her tautly stretched breasts.

“It doesn’t hurt,” she whimpered.

His hand jerked again, applying unintentional pressure against her slightly parted intimate folds.

After a minute of thick silence, Davis asked hoarsely, “Is it bad—when he takes you?”

She paused a beat before she answered. “It’s not as bad as it could be. At least he doesn’t get off on pain.”

Davis actually winced—as if at the thought of what she very easily could have suffered in the Hold.

“Thank you, by the way,” she continued, praying that he was almost to the point of breaking. “For your advice, when I first got here.”

He’d carefully applied the salve, making sure not to let it get in contact with her pussy. And now his hand grew still, the side of it pushing gently where her folds parted—although she was almost sure the move wasn’t conscious. “I wish I could have done more.”

“You have to do your job.” She closed her eyes and waited, trying to judge how to pitch the next words exactly. “I’m basically safe with him. As safe as possible down there. I just wish…”

She couldn’t see his face, but she felt his hand move away, and she figured he’d realized how he was touching her. “You wish what?” His voice was thick and raspy.

Riana released a shaky sigh. “He’s like an animal. They all are. And sometimes I just want to be…to be touched by a man.”

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Davis made a choked sound, and Riana opened her eyes to see him staring down at her with eyes that were hot and almost wild—barely reined in. He was panting audibly and one of his hands was poised just above her chest.