Courting Trouble: Running with the Devil Book 6

by Jasmin Quinn

  Hugo didn’t push because he didn’t care. As long as the asshole got reburied at some point in the future, he didn’t have to be the one to hold the shovel. Besides, his mind was on the woman on his boat. Even before he left the restaurant, he’d decided to take his boat, take Olivia and leave Vancouver. Maybe head up to Alaska for a bit. Easy to get lost up there, go into hiding. Tell Liv the truth once they were out on the water, that he’d paid her debt for her. Let her slap the shit out of him, then tell her Tony was alive, but that it was irrelevant now. On paper he was dead, on paper she was a widow. He’d fucking marry her on a beach somewhere, or the boat. If the husband kicked up a fuss, he’d kill the sonofabitch for real.

  The Gypsy Girl had an air of desertion when he stepped on it. Olivia had such a vibrant presence and he couldn’t feel her. He went inside to look even though his stomach was already knotting up. She was gone. No trace of her. Her bag was gone, her clothes were gone. It was like she never existed. Except for the jewelry he’d bought her yesterday, and the red dress crumpled in a corner on the floor, the stiletto’s discarded next to it, the white bikini on the unmade bed. Everything she’d owned before she met him was gone. Everything he bought her yesterday was still there. Except the ring. The sapphire she refused to put on this morning, the ring he forced her to wear. It was no where to be found.

  Could she have left him? Had she been working with Creed on something? Was it to get him out of Vegas for some reason? His mind was working in overdrive as he kept retracing his steps through the boat. As if he looked enough times, she’d finally emerge. His heart was beating out of his chest, the panic was making him frantic. He couldn’t think what to do next. What the fuck? This wasn’t him. He needed to stop, recalibrate, think. Where would she go in Vancouver?

  Maybe she just went shopping, maybe to get food.

  No, she had no money. He was such a fucking prick. He hadn’t given her any.

  What if she left because of that, because of his prickishness. His instincts told him no. His mind flitted back a couple of days ago. She was happy. Genuinely happy, sitting on his boat deck, gazing at him, the sun stroking her hair. She was Blondie, she didn’t let something like a major blowout, a little rough sex, get in the way of her living life to the fullest. Nope. She didn’t leave him. Even if he was a prick

  The only people who knew he had her besides Creed was Anto Kharzin and Rusya Savisin. The Russian fucks! Did Anto send someone over to pick her up while they were dining with the dead husband? Anto lied about knowing Jackman, Hugo was sure of it. Maybe Anto owed this Jackman. Maybe this was his way of paying him back.

  Hugo did another sweep of the boat, looking for any sign of Olivia, but nothing. It was like he made her up. He stepped off the boat, leaving the door open in case Blondie came back, then headed back to Kharzin’s. He might not be in boxing shape anymore but if Anto had anything to do with Liv’s disappearance, he was going to blow the fucker’s head off.

  CHAPTER 41

  A half-hour after finding Olivia gone, Hugo stalked into Anto Kharzin’s condo building, up to security and told them he was here to see the Russian prick. They had no intentions of letting him pass, had not been notified that Hugo was dropping by.

  Hugo leaned over the counter, into the face of the tough-looking security guard and growled, “You get the fucking Russian on the phone and tell him I’m here. Right now.”

  The security guards behind the desk were not retired rent-a-cops. These guys were for real. Young, hard, with guns tucked into holsters on their belts. They knew who lived at the top of this building and they knew what they were protecting. There was no fucking way Hugo was going to get past them and up to Anto’s penthouse unless he shot his way through. Fortunately, he didn’t have to. Anto came down to the lobby, pinned Hugo with a glare. Said nothing though, just motioned for Hugo to follow.

  They didn’t return to his penthouse, but rather the floor below it, into an operations centre of sorts. A few men were working at computers and a woman, all barely looking up as they passed. Anto took Hugo to a boardroom. As soon as the door was closed and they were alone, Anto turned to him. “What the fuck’s going on, Hugo?”

  “Olivia’s gone.”

  Anto grinned, “Came to her senses, did she.”

  Hugo lost it, his fear for Olivia outweighing his healthy respect for the giant in front of him. He grabbed Anto by the T-shirt and shoved him up against the door. Hugo was probably the only other guy in the world who could toss Anto around. And not easily. Anto was Hugo’s height, but broader and far more muscled, probably outweighed Hugo by 30 solid pounds. It was like moving an elephant. But Anto didn’t react, didn’t dig his feet in. Didn’t even try to break Hugo’s hold on him. He simply waited until Hugo saw the error of his ways and dropped his hands off Anto.

  Hugo paced away.

  Anto didn’t apologize for his untimely remark as he straightened his T-shirt, but he understood that it was untimely, so he also didn’t beat Hugo to a pulp. “What happened?”

  “I got back to the boat and she was gone. No trace that she’d even been there. Like she didn’t exist.”

  “Who’d take her, Hugo? Not me, not Rusya.”

  Hugo assessed Anto, looking for the truth in his words, in his face. “I don’t know. Maybe this Jackman guy. Who else would take her? He wanted her bad enough to offer Creed $20 mil. Olivia’s got it going on, but I never heard of anyone paying that kind of money for a woman. So why would he?” Hugo stopped his pacing, looked at Anto.

  Anto didn’t answer. Just stood there, looking like he was trying to think.

  “What if he kills her, Anto?” Hugo heard the fear in his voice.

  CHAPTER 42

  What if he kills her, Anto?

  A few weeks ago, Anto would have berated this man, or any man for losing his mind over a woman. But he understood it now. He tried to think like Jackman. Jackman didn’t pay $20 million for a woman with no skills. Actually, Jackman didn’t pay $20 million for anyone. But he wanted Olivia for some reason and when Creed didn’t give her up, Anto figured he decided to help himself.

  Anto wondered who did the grabbing. Not Jackman himself, he didn’t get his hands dirty. Anto could maybe call his friend, Dean, who also worked for Jackman and ask him, but he’d have to ask carefully. Last time he saw Dean, the guy was questioning Anto’s loyalty. That hit far too close to home.

  Something was off. Jackman wanted Olivia either because she had information he wanted or to use her as leverage for something. The only leverage she’d have would be with her supposedly dead husband. Or Hugo. He looked at Hugo who had been waiting for him to say something.

  He was about to give up his secret to yet another man. And not just any man. Hugo was a man who traded in secrets. Sold information to the highest bidder. But Anto’d never seen this side of Hugo. The man was wreck. Lost his sense of humour. Not the relaxed happy guy he was used to. That told Anto that the big guy had it bad for the blonde. Anto could see why. Olivia was startling, provocative, but the real deal. Completely innocent and naive. Okay, well that was bullshit, but she had a goodness about her that was charming, and also tiring. Still, Anto appreciated how unsettled she made Hugo.

  He was worried though. Wondered who Jackman sent to pick her up. Hoped it was one his good guys, because some of the assholes in Jackman’s employ had no principles, no lines they wouldn’t cross. They wouldn’t think twice about taking a run at the blonde. Jackman was not Anto’s favourite but at the same time, the Russian boss didn’t condone that kind of treatment of women. Still, he didn’t stop it either, if it served his purpose. Anto said none of this to Hugo.

  Instead, “I’m gonna share some information with you. If it gets out, Hugo, if you tell anyone, I will track you down and beat you to death.”

  He waited while Hugo nodded. “That’s fair.”

  Anto shook his head. “Not good enough, asshole. This information can’t get out. You have to promise.”

  Hugo furrowed his forehea
d at Anto and raised his little finger. “Like pinkie promise?”

  Anto batted the hand out of his face. “I know Jackman.”

  “I know that already, you Russian asshole. I’m pretty fucking good at reading people.”

  Anto sighed. Hugo needed to take a finishing class. “So does Rusya. Let’s just say they don’t invite each other to their birthday parties.”

  “So that’s the secret?”

  Anto shook his head, held his breath and took the deep dive. “Jackman invites me to his birthday parties.”

  Anto could tell that he’d shocked Hugo. The big guy froze, straightened his back. Looked at Anto, looked away, looked back.

  “You shouldn’t have told me that, you fucking prick.”

  Anto shrugged. “I had to Hugo, ‘cause we need to know what the fuck’s going on and the only way I can do that is to reach out to Jackman.”

  Hugo rubbed the back of his neck as he paced away from Anto. He turned. “Just tell me you aren’t involved in this.”

  Hugo was trying Anto’s patience. “My only involvement in this is as it relates to you. Jackman and I have been slowly breaking up. Someone’s gonna kill me at some point – either Jackman or Rusya, because I’m in too deep.”

  Hugo’s face took on a grey pallor. He looked like the idea of Anto being dead would break his heart. “You need to take Marisol and get the fuck out of town before Rusya finds out. The planet is pretty fucking big. You should be able to hide somewhere.”

  Anto shrugged, looked out the window as he thought about what Hugo was saying. “Or I gotta convince Rusya that I have his best interests at heart.”

  “Do you, Anto?”

  Anto nodded, looked grim. “I love him like a brother. He’s Marisol’s protector. Even if he kills me, he won’t kill her.”

  “Does she know?”

  Anto nodded. “Yeah.”

  “If he finds out she knows, he’ll kill her.”

  Anto wanted to deny this, but the big-ass fucker was right. Rusya would understand her loyalty to Anto, even applaud her for it. But he would kill her for her betrayal, probably first so Anto got to watch. “Then I have to find a way to fix this. Maybe I gotta kill Jackman.”

  “Fuck Anto. I didn’t know.” Hugo sat down, rubbed a hand across his face. His shoulders slumped. He was carrying the weight of the world. “I don’t know… I don’t think I can ask you to do this for me and Olivia. I think you better let me figure this out myself.”

  Anto shook his head, sat down too, across from Hugo, but leaned into him. “No. I help you get your woman back. Then you owe me, Marsden and you repay me by keeping my secret.”

  Hugo stared at him, his eyes flinty. “Your secret’s safe with me, whether you help me or not. I have no desire to see you skinned alive. Besides, maybe Rusya will think I’m guilty by association and decides he wants to make a quilt.”

  A frown split Anto’s face. “Possible.”

  He reached for a cell phone that had been sitting on the table, dialed a number. Waited. Hung up, dialed another number. Hung up again. Dialed a third number. “Fuck!” he swore as he dropped the phone back onto the table in disgust.

  CHAPTER 43

  Olivia sat on a small mattress in a locked room. Alone. A little light flitted in through the window, too far up the wall for Olivia to reach. And even if she could, it was boarded up and she was short one prybar. Some other bits of light leaked in under the solid wood door. But light or not, it was night. Day was gone, the sun had set. And she’d been fucking kidnapped.

  When they got here, wherever here was, Mack picked her up like she was a sack of flour and carried her over his shoulder. He dropped her on the mattress and she “oomphed” when she landed. He crouched down next to her, pulled the sack off her head, ungagged her and sat back on his haunches staring at her. She cleared her throat, tried to speak but was too dry to do anything but squeak.

  “I’ll get you some water,” Mack said, concern creasing his not-ugly face. “And something to eat. You’re going to be here for a while. My boss wants to have a chat with you. He’s flying in.” He got to his feet and left, then came back a few minutes later with a cup of water. He held it to her lips and helped her as she sipped the water, one of his hands holding the back of her head steady. Olivia’s eyes roved over him, trying to commit him to memory. When she could, she would have this sonofabitch arrested and in jail for the rest of his life. Or killed. She knew people. He didn’t know it, but she fucking knew people.

  He was about six feet tall, maybe more, lean, in good shape. Tanned. Someone who might have turned her head before Hugo, before he kidnapped her, before he slapped her upside the head. Kind of pretty blue eyes, even though he had dark hair and a dark complexion. Nice accent – always a hit with the ladies, but he seemed somewhat immune to her, so she wondered if maybe he swung the bat left-handed.

  “I need to pee,” she said. His eyes stroked her, considering, a little mistrustful.

  Olivia shifted her body, “I need to pee, Mack and I don’t want to do it here. I have a limited supply of clothes. I’d like not to stink them up.”

  Mack pulled out a jackknife, flipped it open and cut her feet free. Then hauled her up.

  She held out her hands and waited.

  “No, not going to let you completely free to terrorize the hired help. You can manage with your wrists together. I’ll cut you loose when you’re back in here.”

  “What’s the matter, Mack? You afraid of me.”

  His lips quirked up. “Yeah, a little bit.”

  Olivia let out a throaty chuckle. It sounded like something Hugo would say. And then her throat closed up on her. Fuck. Hugo. She was afraid she’d never see him again.

  Mack led her to a bathroom but wouldn’t let her close the door. Still, he stood away from her, his back to her, respecting her privacy. How could he be such an asshole and a nice guy at the same time? When she was done, when she’d washed her hands, wet the towel and wiped her face, her chin, her armpits, when she’d had a good look in the mirror and saw the little black circles under her eyes, Mack took her back to the room, left her there with her hands still secured.

  He returned shortly with a couple of bottles of water and a couple of sandwiches. He cut the zip tie, stepped out and closed and locked the door. She thought about tackling him the minute her hands were free, but she thought she wouldn’t win. And she was hungry, so she let him go unmolested. She ate the sandwiches, drank the water. Watched the sliver of light under the door fade as the sun went down. Waited for Mack to come back. She waited all night.

  It was early morning when the Aussie came to get her. She had to pee like a race horse. She told Mack that, berated him for his thoughtlessness. Mack ignored her, brought her to a different bathroom. It had a shower and a nice tub.

  “You can shower if you want.” He pointed to a bathrobe. “It’s all I got for you, Olivia. But you want to wear it instead of your clothes, I’m okay with that.

  Olivia looked at the bathrobe as she closed and locked the door. She did want to wear it. it looked clean and cozy, not like the clothes she was currently wearing. But there was not a fucking chance she was going to wander around naked in a bathrobe that belonged to a man who wasn’t Hugo. If Hugo found her like that, he’d go through the roof. She wondered how long she’d have to wait ‘til he showed up.

  When she was done the shower, extra-, extra-long just to be a bitch, she dried and dressed herself in the same clothes she’d been wearing. She gazed at herself in the mirror. She looked smaller, she thought. Like she’d lost something along the way. Her hair was a tangled mess because Mack didn’t give her a comb and her face was free of make-up. She wasn’t used to that. No make-up made her look too soft. She couldn’t be soft right now. She looked away from her reflection. It was disconcerting. She didn’t want to start acting like she looked.

  Mack was leaning against the wall in the hall, waiting for her. His arms were crossed, which gave a fantastic swell to his biceps. Nic
e. Not as nice as Hugo’s but the guy probably did okay with the ladies. He glanced at her darkly. “What the fuck were you doing in there, carving soap sculptures?”

  Olivia grinned. “Had to wash the stink off me. Took longer than I expected.”

  Mack didn’t rise to her bait. Too bad. She was in the mood for a good verbal sparring match. Then she thought of Hugo and missed him like crazy all over again.

  “C’mon.” Mack motioned with his head and she followed him into an open area. Nice living room, kitchen, lots of glass. Isolated house overlooking the ocean. Fuck Canada was beautiful.

  She wandered over to the huge window in the living room, placed her palms flat against the glass, making sure she was leaving serious imprints and stared out at the stunning view. She could easily live in this house if Hugo were here. She wondered how many bedrooms and bathrooms it had. Hoped there was a fenced section for the dog they were going to get. A playroom for the kids. She turned to Mack who’d been studying her. “Nice view,” she said giving him an opening.

  He grinned, a small smirk but let the opportunity go. Again she wondered which side of the plate he batted from. Usually she could tell, but Mack was a little hard to nail. “Coffee and some eggs and toast if you want. Eat and drink up. You got a meeting with the boss in an hour.”

  She wandered over to the table, sat down and poured a cup of coffee, added sugar and cream, then spooned some scrambled eggs onto a plate. Mack joined her.

  She took a bite of toast, chewed, then as she swallowed, asked. “Who’s the boss?”

  Mack shrugged as he dished himself some breakfast. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  And she did.

  There was no doorbell, no heralding of trumpets when he arrived. He came in so quietly that she didn’t realize he was there until he said, “Hello.”